Don't Forget About Me
by DyreDire
Summary: After an accident, Claire wakes up in a hospital but she has forgotten the past nine years of her life, including her daughter and her time in the 17 century. At the doctors suggestion, Claire, Frank, and their young daughter Bree travel to Scotland in an effort to recapture some of Claires old memories. While looking for answers, they stumble upon the stones and are sent back
1. The Incident

**About the story :**

 **This will take place about halfway through the third book. I may slightly alter some of the times in which events occur-this is not intentional, I am simply not writing with the original book in my hand and it may also be convenient for the events to occur as I want them to if these things change. These changes would be very minor, and as I am not attempting to have this claimed as real or official in anyway, I feel as though these minor details can be ignored. (For example, I _think_ about 14 years had passed before Jamie left prison but I will be changing that to 8, 9, or 10). I am also changing (or deciding) who can go through the stones, which again may be inaccurate (But whatever, right ;)).**

 _I really hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading! :)_

 _._

 **Chapter 1**

 ** _The Incident_**

The light was bright when I opened my eyes. There was a smell I found completely familiar, yet somehow entirely strange. The odor filled me with comfort, while simultaneously making me feel a bit of panic. Why was I here? Should I be here? What had happened to bring me here? Why weren't shapes or colours forming yet?

The smell was sterile; dull but also sharp and insulting. It was wrapped in the slight odor of polyester and dust. The voices I heard were undeniably American. All of them, though they spoke at a distance. Wasn't I just with Frank in Scotland a moment ago? Yes. I'd left him at the hotel and gone towards the stones-Craigh Na Dun-to find a follow I'd wanted to examine only yesterday. Or was it...?

All my memories seemed foggy.

"Mom!" A voice cried. "Mom! Mom!"

The voice, like many of the others, was American. A young girl I had never heard before but her voice called to me so immediately and so intently that I felt I could almost create her shape of her body, and paint the colours of her complexion, with only it. There was a panic and a fear in her voice that I instantly wanted to soothe. I rolled my body to the side preparing to reach for the girl, understanding instantly as pain spiked up my body that parts of my torso and arms were intensely bruised. I suppose I would be here for a reason.

I was on a hospital bed. There was a small, uncomfortable pillow behind me and an awkward robe around my body. I still struggled to see the colours or shapes of my surrounding, but I'd seen enough hospitals in my time at the war that I was sure I understood exactly where I was, and the procedure for having me there.

"Bree, wait." Frank. That was his voice. And as if it were magic, it caused the bright lights to fade so I could finally make out a blurry image of my surroundings. I had been correct. I was in a small hospital room. It appeared to be a private one. The girl who'd come running was small, maybe eight-years-old with fiery red hair and deep blue eyes filled with a wild uncertainty. My husband's hand on her shoulder to keep her from racing over to me, although he looked a little concerned, Frank appeared almost unaffected by the fact I was in a hospital bed... and awake. Perhaps, I have not been here long enough for him to worry. Or the doctors have assured him I am fine. None-the-less, something had changed in the way he looked at me now compared to how he looked at me earlier this morning.

The girl was strikingly beautiful, even at eight years old. I could not explain exactly what it was, but her face fascinated me beyond reason. I wanted very much to know her, and understand the reason for her presence here.

"Frank." I spoke with a note of relief I had not been expecting, as if this was the first time I was seeing him in years. This note in my tone appeared to be noticeable by him also, and clearly surprised him a bit.

"Claire." There was a tiny lift in his tone as if the word had almost been a question. He did not step any closer.

A short man with grey-white hair and a long white jacket entered behind Frank and the girl. A doctor, I easily assumed. He looked up at me from his clip board and appeared almost startled when he met my eyes. Then he collected himself, cleared his throat, and said, "I am glad to see you are finally awake, Mrs. Randall. How are you feeling?"

"Well." I answered with a small nod and smile. This was not a lie. I felt rested for what must have been the first time since... clearly something had happened since we were no longer in Scotland, as I remembered. I was now nearly certain of this because all the nurses and doctors shuffling quickly in the hallway-and even the little girl-seemed to have American accents.

"Well." The doctor repeated while slowly nodding his head and reviewing his sheet as if "well" might be a symptom he needed to note. "And how is your head feeling."

"My head is fine, doctor." I answered, offering a slightly more relaxed Frank a small smile. This, again, appeared to surprise him but he smiled back immediately. "Can you tell me what I am doing here?"

"You were in a car accident, Claire." Frank explained, stepping in front of the small girl.

"You have been in a coma for three days, Mrs. Randall." The doctor added. "I am glad to see you are finally conscious. We've had a few close calls regarding your waking up. For the past hour and a half you have appeared to wake only to remain asleep. The nurses were starting to joke that it was my presence putting you to sleep." He appeared to find this humorous, and likely wanted me to laugh with him. I could not bring myself to laugh but I did offer him a small smile.

"Are we in America?" I wondered, reaching forwards to grab Franks hand. Although I felt fine, I knew I would feel better being comforted by my husband. Frank noticed my outreached hand and seemed to examine it as if it were a foreign object. Then, understanding my intention, he jumped into action and quickly took my hand. It almost seemed to please him.

"Of course we are." Frank answered. "Where else would we be?"

"Well..." I almost felt a sting of insecurity. "Scotland."

"Why on Earth would we be in Scotland?" I think he might have been a bit insulted by the inquiry.

"We were just in Scotland." Though saying those words felt strange. We should be in Scotland now.

"Darling, we have not been to Scotland in years." He argued.

"We were just in Scotland." I replied. "We should be in Scotland now."

"I don't understand." He was about to say more but was interrupted by the small red haired girl poking out from behind him in an apparent effort to see me as the doctor continued to examine my charts.

Although she seemed very comfortable with Frank, I had never seen the girl before and assumed she must be lost, or perhaps a relative of someone working at the hospital, or maybe the daughter of one of Franks colleagues. "Hello, sweetheart, my name is Claire, what is your name?" I wondered. Her eyes widened and both Frank and the doctor snapped their heads towards me as if I had started speaking another language.

"Claire, darling, this is Brianna." Frank spoke with a small tone of aggravation which I chose to ignore.

"Hello, Brianna." I smiled and offered her my hand. She offered me hers and we shook for a moment. I could not have explained the small shock that went through my body when she touched my hand. It was something I had not felt since... I felt like I should have had something to compare the feeling to; someone I loved more than anything who sent shock waves through my body with every touch. It must have been Frank, I decided. "Are your parents around?"

This seemed to affect her more than I expected, and I felt the sudden paralyzing fear that maybe something had happened to her parents. Maybe that was why she clung to Frank- -she had no one else. Frank had said I'd been in a car accident. Perhaps so had her parents. Perhaps I had collided with them, and they had died in the accident, as mine had when I was younger than her, and I had just reminded her of this.

"Claire." Franks voice was sharper. "This is Brianna. She is our daughter."

"What are you talking about?" Had he adopted her so soon? Surely the process took longer than three days. No, surely he was speaking metaphorically.

"Mrs. Randall, what is the last thing you remember?" The doctor asked suddenly. "Before the accident, I mean."

"I was driving to Craigh Na Dun." I answered. "To get a sample of that flower I'd seen, don't you remember?"

"What is the year, Mrs. Randall?"

"1945." What could possibly be the reasoning behind such a question?

Franks face widened in shock and he turned to the doctor who simply nodded and said, "Could I speak with you a moment, Mr. Randall."

"Absolutely." Frank answered, releasing my hand and leading the young, upset girl named Brianna as they followed the doctor out of the room.

Alone, I had a moment to evaluate the events that had occurred. Clearly, I was confused. Because we were in America. And I had no memory of ever traveling to the America's. Although I could easily assume I was in North America, I had no idea which country exactly I was in. I had been driving-I think.

And apparently now I had a daughter. Frank, although still as attractive as ever, appeared more tired. Tiny lines had begun forming around his eyes and he wore a different pair of glasses. Perhaps the accident had triggered a temporary amnesia. I could not remember us leaving Scotland, but why had we come here? Frank had been offered a position at Oxford, had he not? And I cannot imagine there was much about American history Frank felt overly fond of studying.

A nurse entered the room, bringing a tray of food. I was not sure I was hungry, but once the tray was in front of me, I could not seem to stop eating, even after Frank and the doctor reentered the room.

"How are you feeling, Mrs. Randall?" The doctor wondered.

"I'm feeling fine, thank you." I smiled a little but continued to chew.

"Does your head hurt at all?" The doctor continued.

"No." I answered.

"Do you remember, Mrs. Randall, where you live?" The doctor wondered.

I glanced at Frank who appeared to be nervously teething on the tips of his own fingers.

"Well... we don't really have an address yet, but we will be moving to... Oxford for Franks-why are you looking at me like that?" I inquired.

"Like what?" Frank asked, appearing genuinely confused.

"Like I am a feral cat." I explained.

"That was not my intention, dear." He replied, dropping his fingers away from his mouth.

"Mrs. Randall, I am afraid..." The doctor shook his head for a moment and took a deep breath. "I have read of these moments in articles and journals, but I never imagined I'd have a patient of my own whom I needed to diagnosis but... it appears you have amnesia. My hope is that it is minor, temporary. Though we do not know enough about it to properly provide treatment, I can tell you it was likely the impact of the accident that caused the memory loss. As you do not appear to have already forgotten where you are, nor have you forgotten your husband or yourself, I can confidently say I think your brains ability to store memories is fine. Retrieving them seems to be the issue."

"What year is it doctor?" I demanded because it was the first words that came to my lips. The words in my mind involved more profanity at a higher frequency.

"I-uh..." This question seemed to clearly surprise him.

"1955." Frank answered.

"Are you trying to tell me I have forgotten nine years of my life?" I inquired a little hotly.

"Do you remember our daughter, Claire?" Frank asked suddenly.

"We don't have a daughter, Frank." I replied.

"We do. Brianna."

"That girl." Though I was not opposed to the idea, I was surprised. "Did we adopt?"

"No." He laughed once. "No, she is ours. You gave birth to her in this very hospital."

"She looks like neither of us." I mused. "Her hair-where did she get that colour of hair?"

Both myself and Frank had dark hair. I was fairly certain red hair was rare enough for people with light hair.

He laughed once more, appearing completely relieved. Likely, because I was so calm in accepting this information. But no, I had not accepted it. Although I wanted to trust Frank, I know he would never lie to me, it was nearly impossible for me to accept that nine years of my life had been lived and forgotten. And that I'd had a daughter, a beautiful daughter, and I had forgotten her completely.

"I have been asking myself the same question for years." He sighed happily.

"How did I get into an accident?" I inquired. "And why are we in... where are we exactly?"

"Boston." Both the doctor and Frank answered simultaneously.

"Boston." I repeated. "As in Massachusetts? In the United States?"

"Yes." Frank answered.

"Why are we here?" I inquired.

"I received a job opportunity from Harvard." Frank explained. "We moved here for a fresh start."

"Oxford was our fresh start, darling." I reminded with a coy smile.

His smile was guarded but hopeful. I could not explain the meaning-or the emotion-hidden behind his guarded eyes, but I could tell her was afraid. As if my memories were shattered broken glass which he needed to cross but his feet were bare.

"Are you alright, Frank?" I wondered, reaching for his hand.

"I am." He smiled taking my hand. "I... for the first time in... what feels like forever, I think I am."

"Good. Now would you mind explaining to me... I suppose, everything relevant you think I have missed."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed so far! The next chapter will be called "The woman" and after that Claire, Frank, and Bree will be going to Scotland. :)**_


	2. The Woman

**Chapter 2**

 _ **The woman**_

.

I had been forced to stay in the hospital for three days after waking. I didn't mind the company; getting to know my daughter and learning about myself were two things I never expected to occur from second-hand knowledge. Frank was as kind as ever, caring for me completely as if I were a rare, delicate flower he feared tampering with.

I was tired of being in the hospital, though. I wanted to explore this country I'd never been in. I wanted to see my home and start working to regain my memory. According to Frank, the nurses, and my doctor, I had recently become a surgeon at this very hospital. Its first female doctor. I'd maintained the job months ago but, according to the nurses, already proven myself a strong force in the medical industry. My doctor snubbed the idea that we'd ever worked together.

 _Well, alright_. But he should know I had diagnosed my own condition long before he'd even considered something was wrong. And I did it without the benefits of medical school. Frank said I'd gone to Harvard. _How wonderful?_

When all of the tests had finally concluded, and I was allowed to return home, I started feeling an unreasonable amount of panic. Why would I worry about returning home? Was it simply that I'd never known a real home before? Or was I simply nervous about being placed into a foreign life I had created? In a new land with a larger family.

I had asked Frank in the hospital why we'd only had Brianna. Why we hadn't expanded our family passed one child. He told me it was a miracle we'd had Brianna at all, and he was just happy to have her. I smiled and kissed my beloved husband, while mindlessly wondering why we'd never attempted to adopt.

Maybe we had. Maybe he just didn't want me to know that my inability to bare him children was the reason we'd waited so long for a child. It certainly would explain why Brianna looked like neither of us. She also often acted differently than us, and although I had only remembered meeting her a few days before, I had noticed a stubbornness in her that I couldn't place in me or Frank.

But that was the nature versus nurture debate, wasn't it? And proved nothing, scientifically.

My home was classically built for a suburban American town. It was attached to the houses beside it, separated by a wooden fence. Inside was large and plainly decorated with portraits of flowers and teapots. A few paintings that appeared to be from Franks preferred period of history-roughly the 1700's-hung delicately too.

Bree took the lead in touring me around our home. She was very colourful in her description of rooms and memories we'd all shared in each. Although I found the experience to be eery, and a little uncomfortable, I could not help but smile at the small girl I'd never known as she so happily expressed past memories we'd shared.

Frank, the darling, made us dinner so that I could relax. According to both he and Bree as we ate, I had been a moderately successful cook, and improving every so often. This was a laugh which we shared around the small wooden, round kitchen table. Frank and I put Brianna to bed a little after 8pm and sat around a small fire in the living room.

"What did we learn of Black Jack Randall?" I wondered as we laughed, drinking tea as he reminisced about the past ten years. Some memories, beginning before my amnesia, I could remember and share in. Others, like Brianna's first day at school or her first efforts at swimming lessons, I was less successful in remembering.

"Well..." Frank started, putting his tea down so he could completely focus and engage himself in whatever he was about to tell me. Clearly, I thought, he'd found it fascinating since he would be needing free hands to express himself. I felt a sudden pang of guilt and regret at not being able to share in the memory of this discovery. Instead of talking with his hands, though, he reached for a biscuit and took a small nibble before continuing. "As it turns out, he was not my direct ancestor but rather my ancestors brother, who took my ancestors fiance as his wife after dying so that the child could be born into a family of worth with a meaningful name."

"That all sounds... very confusing." I replied.

"It is." He answered with a small laugh.

"I wish I remembered being there." I mused quietly. When I received a strange, guarded look from Frank, I swiftly added, "I do not remember you making this discovery. But I remember how much it mattered to you. How desperately you wanted to unveil secrets of your family history. I am sorry I couldn't be a part of it."

"No," He smiled a little, but the smile was saddened. "But you were. I never would have learned so much if not for your guidance."

"Mine?" This was a complete shock to me because my memory involved me following him around idle and bored, maintaining a smile as we explored the Scottish Highlands for clues of his family and people they'd interacted with.

"Yes." Now his smile was a little more animated, but his eyes remained as guarded as they had since I first woke in the hospital. I could not guess what he was hiding but I assumed it was the fear of my not remembering my love for him and our daughter. I would just have to remind him. "You were the one who informed me that Black Jack Randall was not actually my ancestor, and you discovered why my ancestor Mary Randall had married him. This allowed me to find a much deeper and clearer understanding of my linage."

I was not sure if he was trying to make me feel better. I had the sense that he might be. But I smiled anyway. "How did I accomplish so much?"

He laughed once and shook his head. "That, my darling, will always be a mystery to me."

"Did I never tell you?" I wondered.

"No." He shook his head. "You... you told me, I just..." He hesitated for a few minutes, "There were some things you did not wish to tell me. And some things I just... struggled to understand."

"I suppose now we shall never know." I said, and we shared a small, sad laugh. I couldn't understand how there could be anything I didn't tell him.

"I suppose not." He didn't appear upset by this. In fact, a small pleasant smile appeared on his lips. "Do you truly remember nothing, Claire?" I shrugged and smiled a little. "Extraordinary."

"Is my memory loss a good thing?" I inquired, half disbelieving, half amused.

"No, of course not." He tried to pull himself back to seriousness. "No, it's only... hard to believe you could remember nothing."

"Nothing significant." I nodded. "The doctor said some memories may return in dreams. And I've been having some strange dreams, but most of them are non-sense."

"What sort of dreams?" He wondered curiously.

"Well..." I stopped to think for a moment. "I had a dream of you and I singing to Brianna as we put her to bed. I supposed it could be a real memory, until I remembered that the bed had been an elephant. A living, breathing, sleeping elephant. I do not know the sorts of parents we are, but I do not thing we would leave our daughter to sleep on an elephant in her room."

He laughed at this, "No, I suppose we would not." He gave me a curious look once more. "Are you sure you remember nothing? Of hi... At all?"

"No, nothing I haven't told you." I answered.

He almost appeared relieved by this, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. I was not completely bothered by this, as much as I was from the sudden realization that my husband and I were alone for the first time in days.

"Frank." I said with all seriousness, placing my hand on his knee. "When is the last time we..."

He caught the meaning behind what I said a little slower than I would have expected, but his eyes widened and his lips gaped a little. "N-N-not... It h-has been a w-while."

"Well." I smiled, raising an eyebrow. "I do suppose we should change that. Don't you?"

"Y-yes." He stammered as I took his hand and started leading him away from the sofa and up the stairs. The fire had no more wood to feed on and was closed into the fireplace by a steel gate. I did not fear letting it die on its own. "A-Are you sure?"

"Of course." I smiled pulling him to the bedroom we'd apparently shared for about seven years.

He was bashful but amused and happy as I closed the bedroom door behind us with my foot and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Are you sure you are well enough?" He inquired helping to pull it off.

"I am a doctor, or so I have been told." I smiled, pulling off my dress and my slip. His eyes widened for a moment as if surprised by seeing my body. "Oh come now, surely we've seen one another more naked than this before."

"Yes, but..." I don't know what he was about to say and I didn't care. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him with a hot passion as I quickly removed his belt. "Claire,"

I ignored his protests for my health because I felt quite fine. Better than fine, actually. Free. I was free of something, a heavy burden I couldn't even remember. Guilt tried to eat at me for forgetting but I refused to let it, and loving my husband, I knew, would be the perfect cure to the issue of my guilt.

I pushed him back onto the side of the bed before slipping off his shoes and his pants. Then I removed the last of my underwear as he lay back watching, nearly ready and waiting.

Slowly, seductively, I walked between his bare legs which sting dangled off the side of the bed.

"Frank, my love." I purred, lightly tracing my fingers up the tops of his thighs. He moaned, closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled something under his breath. I let my fingers move slowly up, watching him slowly get harder for me.

Carefully, I took his hand and pulled him back into a sitting position so that his face was closer to mine and I could once again kiss him. My heart beat fast, and even faster as he wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me closer. His hand were large and warm against my skin, slowly grabbing at me as he allowed me to deepen the kiss.

I lifted my legs and rested them over his so I was sitting naked on his lap. My hands continued to cup his jaw holding his face to mine as I gently rose up onto my knees, put myself into position and lowered over him. We both released a small gasp as I did this.

I felt myself stretch as I lowered over him, and momentarily paused in surprise that it felt... strange. Mentally, I knew I wanted him. I knew I should be used to him, we must have spent every night making love. How could we not? Yet my body seemed almost surprised by the intrusion, though it welcomed it willingly.

I lowered myself further, with a heavy gasp, and started to ride him, allowing my body to readjust. Perhaps, it was Brianna. I had heard it could be difficult to find time with children in the house. And if I was a doctor and Frank a professor, we would likely both be tired at the end of a long day anyways. So I decided I needing to make this reunion even more memorable.

" _Oh_ , Frank." I moaned letting my head fall back so he could kiss my neck as he usually did. As my head fell back, I noticed a small look of surprise, as if he were not used to me saying "Oh, Frank". Or maybe he was worried that I was in some sort of pain. "I love you."

* * *

I went to bed that night satisfied in Franks arms. I was warm, safe, and happy. And although my sleep was sound and full, my dreams seemed shallow. My dreams were vivid but delicate, as if they would shatter if I tried to touch them. But still they called to me. In this dream I was cold. I was cold and in an unfamiliar land, in unfamiliar clothing, surrounded by unfamiliar people.

Based on the clothing of those parading in my dream, I would think it was set somewhere in the 18th century. Back in England, I thought until I noticed the men in my dream wearing kilts. I must have taken more of a lesson from Frank's love of Culloden than I remembered. Or perhaps, I was simply remembering his dive into his own genealogy. I was strangely uncomfortable in the dream-feeling as though I should be able to remember and name each face as I saw it. Each one gave me the itching towards a memory or feeling that I could not identify.

I woke sweating, panting, and near tears with a painful retching guilt deep in the core of my stomach.

Although they started rare, the dreams of Scotland became increasingly frequent. At first I thought nothing the dreams. I tried to ignore them. But then I started to see Brianna. My dream involved being in France-in a time long ago-with Brianna full grown. But she was much taller than me, and a man. At first, I didn't know the man but while awake I was able to understand it was her, full grown and standing across from me. Dreams made no sense, I reminded myself. They're purpose is debated. "Come with me, will ye Sassanach?" Bree's voice was not her own, but that of a strong Scottish man. The voice was comforting to me, all the same.

The next dream of her as an adult man in old-day France showed her carrying herself as a baby. That was the last night I had a full night of sleep.

I tried to stop the dreams, but they forced their way through my mind. The more I fought, the harder the red-haired man seemed to demand my attention.

"It can't be Brianna." I told Dr. Fulton, the doctor responsible for the care of my mental recovery. He was an associate of Franks who had apparently once overseen my education at Harvard. Frank said he was one of the top medical professionals in the territory and he was very curious about the topic of amnesia. "At first I was sure it was her. It made sense-they shared so many similar features, I assumed... but the dreams are getting clearer. I-I don't understand them."

Dr. Fulton thought for a moment. Then rose his head as he appraised the situation.

"Your last memories are of Scotland, if I am not incorrect?" He wondered.

"Yes, I remember driving." I answered. "After leaving my hotel."

"Perhaps your mind is trying to recreate those moments." He suggested. "Trying to reconstruct the neural pathways that had been destroyed. But as you are currently surrounded by nothing familiar, the pathways are unable to get started."

"That is all very fascinating." I mumbled, slightly annoyed. I knew he was not the direct cause of my irritation. I had not slept well since first seeing the man in my dreams. The dreams tormented until I woke with such fierce fear and sorrow that nothing could put me back to sleep. I was tired. I was annoyed. And honestly, I was afraid. Because nothing seemed to make sense to me. There were new technologies and people, in an area I was expected to call home despite my never choosing or wanting it. It made me wonder if I'd ever wanted to move here originally? Or if it was just another thing I'd done to satisfy Franks needs. "But what can i do to make the dreams stop?"

Again, the doctor thought, then like a dark room lit by a candle, his face brightened completely and he suggested, "Why not return to Scotland? You are unable to return to work so quickly, and your husband's classes should be ending at the end of the academic year. It could be a family vacation."

"Return to Scotland." I repeated in surprise.

"I would hope, of course, that you kept notes of your travels and experiences." He continued. "For my own research purposes. As memories or... emotions or feelings return-instincts even-return to you. As I am sure you're aware, it is not often we have an opportunity to make these sorts of discoveries."

"No it is not." I replied coolly. From the very beginning of our working together, Dr. Fulton had made it plainly obvious that I was his ticket to better understanding amnesia as a medical phenomenon, as well as discovering new treatments for it. As a professional courtesy, and because he likely respected that I did in fact have an understanding of science and the medical field, he did not lie when I confronted him about his interests. Rather, he continued to inform me of the ulterior and further motives to every treatment he decided upon.

This treatment did not require further information, though, because the idea appealed to me so instantly that I was almost positive that it must have been a breakthrough. It could be very possible that returning to the place of my last memories might be exactly what I needed to regain my lost years.

It did not require much more discussion after that. The summer would be a perfect time to go. It was only a few weeks away-not impossible to plan a trip in that time. Brianna would be out of school and Frank could take his work on the road, if needed, for a week. Plus, I was very sure that this was exactly what I needed. Something familiar. Something that felt more like home.

I expected Frank to be excited when I told him of what Dr. Fulton had suggested while we all sat at dinner. Brianna loved the idea. Frank did not.

"We cannot up root our lives just for a vacation." He snapped. "I have work, Brianna has school, you need to be near the hospital in case you get worse."

"I have already told you, Frank, Brianna will be out of school and Dr. Fulton recommended this. Plus, there are hospitals in Scotland if anything should happen which it shouldn't."

"I-I don't care, Claire." Frank looked wildly uncomfortable with the conversation. Especially with Brianna randomly chiming, _"I want to go, I want to go!"_

Frank added, "I do not think it's a good idea. Who knows what you will think o-or what you'll remember when you get there." He blinked quickly as if overlooking a mental checklist of memories in particular that he meant. He placed a hand over mine then and looked desperately into my eyes. "There are some things, Claire, that I think you are better- -we are all better, not remembering."

"Do you not want my memories to come back then?" I demanded, pulling my hand away from his.

"Of course not."

"Then what do you have against us going back and trying?" I wondered. "I can't sleep, Frank. And soon that will become a much bigger issue than my possibly remembering any unpleasantness."

"I don't think it's a good idea." He decided. "I don't care what Dr. Fulton says; he just wants to use you, my wife, to experiment his hypothesis's on. I will speak to the man tomorrow but no. Scotland is not a good idea."

"I don't feel at home, Frank." I admitted. "And nothing has come back to me since leaving the hospital. Nothing here has allowed me to get better. I need to try."

"There is nothing for us in Scotland, Claire." He moaned, then suggested "Maybe England. Perhaps if we return to Oxfordshire something might be triggered."

"What is the difference between Oxfordshire and Scotland?" I demanded.

"Exactly."

"No, I mean why would we go to one and not the other? You're okay with taking off time from work and crossing the sea to go to England but nowhere north of that?"

"I'm tired of Scotland." He sighed tiredly. "I often regret going in the first place." I could not have guessed what he meant by that, but by the expression that crossed his face after, and his surprised glance at Brianna, I think it was said in the heat of the moment. Only half-true if anything. Perhaps learning that his family tree was not as he expected had affected him more than I'd thought it would.

That seemed like the end of discussion, though we continued to argue about it for days. I was not always so direct in requesting we go. Sometimes I might simply walk up behind him and massage his shoulders, tell him he was tense and that we should go on a vacation so he could relax.

This still meant arguments would occur and without my memories of being a doctor or completing medical school, I was completely unable to resume a career at the hospital. This meant I had no income and nothing to spend my days doing. When Brianna returned from school, I entertained her and we were able to get better acquainted. She, too, had not yet lost hope we may go to Scotland in the summer.

But as the days passed, the time to arrange the trip minimized and I was beginning to fear it would not happen. I still could not sleep, and the thought of revisiting Scotland made the dreams even louder.

I had just finished a hot bath and was making myself tea in the middle of a Wednesday, hoping I might get a quick nap if I relaxed enough, when the doorbell rang.

We'd had some neighbours visit with gifts after my return from the hospital, but that was weeks ago. I'd not seen much of them recently so the intrusion was a great surprise.

"Hello?" I answered.

The woman on the other side was short, with short brown hair styled in a lovely bob under a small hat. She wore pastel pinks; a skirt, a blouse, and a loose jacket over. A small purse was pulled over her somewhat hunched shoulders and her fingers were trembling in little balls at the front of her body.

"May I... help you?" I wondered.

She looked up at me in surprise, her big brown eyes and a slightly gaped mouth. Did she not expect me to answer. She was still for a moment, watching me in a sort of awe.

"Are you looking for someone?" I continued.

"Are you... Claire...? Randall?" Her voice was so low it was difficult to hear.

"I am." I acknowledged, "And you are?"

"Oh..." She blinked. "My name is Harriet. Harriet Oliver."

"Hello Harriet Oliver." I welcomed with a smile. "May I help you with something?" Before she could answer a spark ignited in my mind. It felt sharp and hot but was over as quickly as it began so it was no longer anything more than a memory. One I didn't fully trust. The name had no clear meaning in my mind, nor did I find her face to be familiar, but I spoke as if I knew her without thinking of the words. "Oh, you are one of Franks assistants. I've met you a few times at office parties, haven't I?"

"Uh, yes." She smiled a little bashfully. I felt a sudden blooming pride that I had known what I had, though I could not access where that knowledge had come from. "I-I-uh-am so sorry to bother you. Could I come in?"

"Absolutely." I smiled, stepping back to welcome her inside. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you." I smiled, went to the kitchen, poured an extra cup of tea and returned to the main sitting room where Harriet waited for me. "I know... I heard about what happened. But that was why I waited so long to come speak with you. Are you feeling any better?"

"I am, thank you." I smiled taking a seat on the love seat across from the sofa she chose.

"I know this is probably not the best time to do this." She said. "I know that you are likely still recovering from the accident."

 _Did she know about my amnesia?_ I wondered, _Was I meant to remember her?_ What had Frank told her?

"I need to say this, though." She breathed. "I know you are a good woman. I know you will do the right thing..."

"Harriet." I encouraged. "Whatever it is, please don't be afraid of telling me."

She would not look at me as she took a few deep breaths before finally beginning.

* * *

Frank returned home shortly after 6pm. He removed his coat as he entered the front door, announcing his arrival as he did this, and hung in up on a hook. While doing this, he accidentally dropped his keys and bent to pick them up. He was lucky for that, because if he hadn't he would not have dodged the plate I threw at his head after marching out of the kitchen.

"Claire?" He asked in complete and utter confusion, the rat bastard. I threw another object at him but he ducked once more and it hit the front door before falling to the ground. "What is the matter?"

" _What is the matter?_!" How dare he be so calm? I struggled to control my desire to scream towards the sky in anger and hatred, nor my desire to fall to the floor in tears. I sucked in a deep breath before continuing. I needed to. " _Harriet_ Oliver."

He did not appear to comprehend what I'd said at first, but once he did his face went white.

 _That's more like it you son of a bitch._

"Miss. Oliver." He said.

"That's right." I snapped. "Your whore came to the house today and can you guess what she told me?" I did not give him a change to speak. "She wanted to let me know how _unhappy_ I made you. She wanted to request I give you the divorce you've wanted for _years_ but have been too _afraid_ to get. According to that woman you two are in love, and I am the only thing keeping you from being together."

"Where's Brianna?" Was that _really_ his concern right now?

"She's at a friends house." I spat. "Don't _worry_. I may not remember much, but I do know _that_ much about being a decent parent."

"Claire, you don't understand,"

"I don't _understand_?!" I cried. "That you've been unfaithful? That I have made you so terribly unhappy, no Frank, I think I do understand. I understand very well!"

"I never wanted to be with anyone else but you." He tried.

"I suppose we don't always get what we want? How unfortunate that you so unhappily fell into bed with another woman. Oh, Frank, How I do _pitty_ your misfortune!"

"I have not been with her for months, Claire." He defended.

"Well, that certainly makes everything better!" I shouted. "I suppose we were separated during these months that you and Harriet were together." His hesitation answered that question. "No wonder you don't want my memories back! The Lord only knows what else I have caught you doing!"

"This isn't fair, Claire, you don't understand!"

"What in God's name could I not understand."

"We had an arrangement."

Oh dear god, no. He could not be trying to tell me that. "We had an _arrangement_...? What? Where we could fuck whoever else we wanted? Tell me, Frank, who was my lover?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"Did I not have one?" I inquired knowing full well I would never have been unfaithful to him.

"You did."

"Who?" I demanded. "Who Frank?"

"Brianna's father." He appeared to have regretted saying it. Probably because it was another lie.

"Brianna's father." I repeated in disbelief. "Brianna, our daughter. You expect to believe I went to another man to conceive a child?"

"No." He shook his head and looked down to his hands. "No, you didn't."

"How dare you assume such a thing?" I demanded. "Of your own daughter! What in God's name could make you think such a thing?"

"You told me." He shouted, as if he had a reason to be getting angry.

"I told you." I repeated, still not believing him.

"Yes,"

"When?" I wondered sharply.

"In Scotland." He said.

"Did we decide to spend an extra two years on vacation, Frank?!" I demanded. "Because unless we did, there are two years missing from your story."

I could tell from the look on his face he wanted only to be free of this conversation. Too bad I did not care what he wanted in that particular moment.

"You have no right to tell me I was unfaithful to you, Frank. Because I remember that time much better than you do and I know that I would have _never_ betrayed you, no matter what you thought." I clenched my teeth wishing I had the perfect thing to say or to yell at him, but the adrenaline in my body already had me shaking. I was lucky just to have the ability to stand. "You were willing to let me go sleepless and feel like an outsider in my own home because you were a coward too afraid to admit what you'd done. Or have me remember."

"No, that is not-"

"Have you brought her here before?" I demanded. "Have you fucked her in our bed?"

This question appeared to shock him a little more than anything else I'd said. Perhaps I'd asked it before.

"Of course not."

"I don't believe a single word you say you lying piece of shit."

He didn't reply. We glared at one another for a few moments. He broke the silence by releasing a deep breath.

"I know you did not mean to do it, Claire." He sighed. "You had to. And I have tried to forgive you. But you never got over it, so we made an arrangement."

"Did I verbally agree to this arrangement?"

"Not directly." He admitted.

"Get out of my house." I ordered through clenched teeth.

"Claire." He begged.

" _GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!_ " I screamed. He might have planned an argument, but he was smart enough not to voice it.

"It is best you are not alone." He noted.

"Bree will be home shortly." I said marching forwards to push him out of the front door and slam it in his face.


	3. Scotland

**Chapter 3**

 _ **Scotland**_

.

I never thought I could be more disoriented than I did when I woke up without remembering the past few years of my life. But I suddenly felt as if I had slipped off a cliff and was hurdling into an empty void. I was not sure I knew what to do. Nothing had prepared me for this. But still, a large part of me didn't want to give up. I wanted to keep going. Where?

The moment I was able to relax from the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and I had a moment to review my confrontation with Frank, I felt devastated. What could have happened in the time I'd forgotten? I could never have imagined Frank would be unfaithful to me. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to handle this situation.

I could not think of a reason that could possibly make what he'd done tolerable- -even forgivable. Had he admitted what he'd done, even apologized, maybe I could have overcome it easier. I think I could, anyways. But he'd claimed we'd had an _arrangement_? That Brianna wasn't his daughter? That I would betray him?

My mind returned to the night in the hotel in Scotland. When he'd heavily suggested I'd had an affair with one of the Scottish soldiers under my care in the war. Was that this imaginary lover he believed I had? Could he truly think so little of me? Had he honestly not overcome his insecurities? He thought he only needed to imagine another man for it to validate his taking another woman... probably more than one. Well, I did not have to imagine his other woman. She'd appeared at my doorstep to inform me of how unhappy I made him.

Why could he not tell me? That was the next string of questions that had come very shortly after the anger had reduced itself to sorrow. If he had been so unhappy in our marriage. Or if he thought I was a bad wife? Why wouldn't he speak to me about it?

It was difficult to regain my composure for Brianna when she finally returned home.

"Where's daddy?" She wondered instantly.

"He is not home right now." I answered. She'd apparently eaten at her friends house which luckily meant I did not have to find something to make. I wasn't sure that I wouldn't throw another plate in a fit of anger. I had her wash and change for bed, then spent the rest of my sleepless night crying alone in my bed.

I could not understand the emptiness I felt. Something was wrong, I'd felt as much since I woke up. But now it felt vividly incorrect. I was missing something. My heart was trying to break but it already felt crushed. Perhaps he was right. Maybe I had been aware he'd been unfaithful. Perhaps we had made an arrangement.

 _Why_?

Brianna. I knew well enough that we would have done it for Brianna. I would not want her to suffer from her parents separating, so I remained with Frank. Our _arrangement_ , whatever it may have been, was likely created after I first learned of his infidelity.

No. I do not think I would have surrendered so easily. There must have been more I did not know. And frankly, I did not know if I wanted to know more. But I needed to. I could not live in the delusion of not knowing who we had become. I could not allow myself to think that this would be the worst of the surprises for me. I needed to know more. And now, I was more determined than ever to learn.

* * *

It was three days before Frank had the nerve to show his face on our doorstep again. He'd come clearly un-kept and filthy, smelling strongly of brandy. He said he wanted to talk but after three days of my dwelling in anger, I was not sure there was much left to say.

I did not need to be humiliated and belittled by my husbands mistresses. No matter what arrangement we might have had, it did not earn me the right to sit across from his _preferred_ lover and listen to all the reasons I should let him leave me. And if this was a normal occurrence then he should have at least warned me, rather than hiding it behind my lost memories.

"I apologize, Claire." He said sitting on the large sofa. He'd already washed and I'd insisted he change. "For how I handled... everything."

"Do you mean since my amnesia began?" I wondered sitting across from him with my arms crossed over my chest. "Or do you mean three nights ago."

Brianna was at school and I was fairly certain Frank should be at work. But perhaps they may have sent him home to clean up.

"Both, I suppose." He breathed. "I-I-I know you cannot understand it, and you probably find it impossible to believe me, but I love you more than anything Claire." I scoffed at this. "I have not been with anyone but you since you woke up. And I have broke things off with Harriet."

"How _wonderful_!" I gasped loudly. "Since I woke up this morning or since I woke up a few weeks ago? It appears we will need to be a lot clearer with one another than we have been."

"Since you woke from the acoma." He explained. "I've not been with another woman since."

"Was that a part of our _arrangement?_ " I inquired. "If I should forget about the arrangement, it becomes invalid?"

"The things you are forgetting..." I narrowed my eyes preparing for the moment he used the term "trust me" in an effort to have me quietly accept whatever he had to say. "Things you are best not to remember. Times that hurt you so much you never recovered. I-I did not w-ant you to suffer these memories again. I don't want you to."

"Shouldn't that be _my_ decision?"

"You must trust me, Claire." _There is it_!

"I _did_ trust you, Frank!" I snapped in a yell. "I did! At first willingly, and then because I had to and I truly believed that I could!"

"I didn't lie." He argued. "I just didn't tell you."

"Purposefully excluding the truth is the same as lying!" I yelled.

"It was for your own benefit!" He tried.

"Well, from now on I think it will be up to myself to decide what is or is not _for my own benefit!_ "

"Please don't leave me, Claire." He begged before I was done speaking. "I will do whatever you need me to. I will tell you everything you have forgotten... even the things I think would be best forgotten."

"I don't want second hand knowledge about my own life, Frank." I spat. "And I would no longer trust you to be a good source to help me remember anything." Then I decided, since I would probably have to tell him at some point anyways, " I have decided to pursue my memories. However painful they may be, they have all my knowledge of my medical schooling. My notes can only get me so far and I will be unable to continue my practice until I prove to be of sound mind. I will be taking Brianna to Scotland for a week so I can re-track my steps and hopefully trigger a memory or two."

Although I remembered nothing of her life, I had grown easily attached to Brianna. I loved her more than anything, even if I didn't remember her earlier life. And the more time we spent together, the more I grew to love her. I would not leave her behind as I went to Scotland, even if it were only for a week. Besides, what child wouldn't love to explore a new country? I could take her down to England and show her where her ancestors came from.

He gaped at me in soundless, speechless distress. I believe he was debating whether to support me or continue his superfluous argument. "When will you be leaving?"

"In three weeks." I answered.

"Please." He begged. "Allow me to join you."

A mix of emotions filled me then. Pride, joy, and hope that my husband might still want to be with me. Anger, betrayal, and humiliation that he actually thought I might want to see him. I _did_ want to see him, though. And despite my anger and sadness, I did want to get through this.

So after some more discussion, and a few alcoholic beverages, we decided we would go to Scotland as a family. But until then, he would sleep either on the couch or at his office or in a hotel. I had no interest in sharing a bed with him until I felt I could trust him again. And I wanted so badly to trust him. Something in his face made it difficult to do this. It was easier to forget my betrayal when I couldn't see his face, but when I looked at him, I felt as though I'd been conditioned to fear him.

I never told him this, of course. As angry and betrayed as I might feel, he was my husband and I still loved him dearly. And I did think he regretted the incident with his assistant. I wouldn't tell him I feared him. I didn't want him to feel anymore guilt than he needed to. No... I did want him to feel guilt. But guilt over his behavior rather than my struggles to comprehend it. Or maybe I wanted both, or maybe I wanted neither. I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted, to be completely honest.

* * *

Brianna was the only reason we spoke more than a few words to one another during the entire flight from Boston to England. Nor did we speak much as we drove up to Scotland.

The reverend had once again accepted us into his home but I did wish to return to the B&B we'd stayed at before.

"Do you intend on bothering the poor reverend for separate rooms, Claire?" Frank rudely wondered as I unpacked my suitcase around my bed.

"We should survive a few nights in the same bed." I muttered sounding hostile, even to my own ears.

"We need to discuss this." He continued.

"We will worry about it when he get home." I dismissed focusing mainly on my task of making the room more comfortable.

"Mama! Mama!" Brianna cried racing into the room and grabbing my leg. "Can we go?! Can we go now?!"

"Go where?" Frank asked.

"Brianna and I are going to Craig na Dun." I informed him.

"Craig na..." He appeared suddenly concerned and a little angry. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I inquired. "It is the last place I was going before my memory loss. I want to go there now."

"It's not a good idea." He tried hotly. I couldn't understand the underlining panic.

"I don't really care, Frank." I determined. "Brianna wants to go. And so do I."

"Yeah!" Shouted a happy Brie. "Let's go! Let's go!"

"I'll go with you then," He decided.

I looked at him with skepticism. "You will? Why?"

"Why shouldn't a man spend a little extra time with his wife and daughter when on vacation?"

"Yay! Daddy's coming too!" Brianna jumped with joy.

"That's right, I am." He smiled at her before picking her up and hugging her. "When are we leaving?"

I sighed and turned towards the dresser. "Just give me a few minutes to get ready."

.

We had informed our hosts of my illness and they were courteous about it, promising to fill any gaps that might be empty-assuming they could. Unfortunately, Frank seemed determined not to let them speak.

Mrs. Graham was the first to greet us as we lowered the stairs. She'd aged a bit more than I expected, but it was still a relief to see her. As strange as she may have been at time, believing in ghosts, witches, and magic of all kinds, she always treated me sweetly.

She had a tray of tea and biscuits in her hand as we lowered to the staircase.

"Oh, hello!" She beamed at us. "I was just bringing you up some tea... Are... Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes, we were headed to Craigh na Dun." I informed her with a smile.

This seemed to shock her, but not in an unpleasant way it had shocked Frank.

"Goodness." She breathed looking at Frank for a short second then looking to me curiously. "Did you... did you plan to go back through?"

"Through what?" I wondered.

"It's nothing but legends." Frank assured me as he descended the staircase. "Don't you remember us learning of the standing stones?"

"No, I suppose not." I blinked looking from him to Mrs. Graham. She gave him a hard stare, biting the inside of her cheek I think, with an expression I couldn't name before returning her glance to me and smiling.

"It's alright dear." She smiled. "Everything will return to you eventually."

"Thank you." I smiled kindly. "You and the reverend have been so helpful."

"It is nothing, of course, dear!" She breathed loudly, "We only want you to get better."

"Well, it is greatly appreciated." I nodded.

"Would you like some tea before you go?" She inquired.

"That would be lovely." I smiled and Mrs. Graham offered a biscuit to Brianna who accepted it willingly.

.

We were silent most of the way to Criagh na Dun. Brianna was the only one who spoke, and she talked about her favorite character in her favorite story. I was surprised that I found the topic so interesting. I cared nothing at all for the story or the character, and would have been bored and annoyed by anyone else who tried so hard to make me care for one, but I enjoyed listening to something she cared so much about.

We stopped in the town before our trip, grabbing small souvenirs. Frank grabbed a story and map of the history of Scotland, a newer addition than he currently held. I was satisfied with a new hat with a pretty blue ribbon around it. Brianna had decided we should all have matching bracelets. After this, we went on the long drive from Inverness to Craigh na Dun.

"What is this place, mama?" Brianna wondered as she began running up the hill towards the stones.

"Stay close, Brie!" I ordered as Frank and I exited the car.

"She really is adventurous." Frank mused watching her race around in circles around the bushes and the trees.

"Just like her father." I smiled fondly, momentarily forgetting that I was angry at him and why. I smiled at him but his expression was guarded, reminding me once more that we were currently fighting.

I wasn't sure what else to say to him to break the tension between us, and although I was unhappy with him, he walked around the car and took my hand. I felt a small chill of distaste at his grabbing my hand but ignored it as we followed our daughter up the hill.

"Mama! Daddy! Do you hear that?" Brianna wondered from higher on the hill.

"Hear what?" I wondered.

"Do you hear that?" She started crying now. "It hurts my ears!"

"What is it, Brie?" Frank wondered as he quickened his step up the hill. I sped up behind him.

As I raced up the hill, I started hearing the echo of a buzz. The buzz quickly grew louder and soon became louder than Franks calls for Brianna. When finally we reached to the top of the hill, we saw her standing in the middle of the circle of stones desperately covering her ears.

"Brianna!?" I called over the sound of the buzzing in my ears. "Brie! Darling, are you okay?"

I raced towards her and pulled her in my arms as if hugging her could stop the now painfully loud buzz surrounding us. The buzz was like nothing I'd experienced before, but somehow also painfully familiar. It seemed to rip and scratch at my body as I attempted to ignore it. It pried at my lost memories and for a moment I thought I might have seen images pass through my mind momentarily, but they were gone just as quickly.

"Brianna!" I think it was Franks voice. "Claire!"

I am not sure what I was reaching for; the memories, the noise, the stones, Franks... But I reached forward as I held my daughter in my arms, blindly searching for relief from the painful sensation. Red hair filled my memories and Scottish country sides and tartan; I was paralyzed, somewhat, but my boggled mind as I reached forwards into what felt like a blind oblivion, sure I was hearing Frank call for my attention.

Then it all went blank again.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I'm sorry, this chapter feels a bit rushed to me but I really wanted to start working on the next couple (When the story starts getting good, in my opinion ;) )**

 **I hope you've enjoyed so far and I will hopefully have another update soon!**


	4. Craigh Na Dun

**Chapter 4**

 _ **Craigh Na Dun**_

.

I was on my back when my eyes finally opened. I remembered only pain and... screaming. So much screaming. Was it mine? No, I don't think so.

 _Brianna._

How could I have forgotten to check on her? I sat up instantly and sucked in a quick breath of panic at seeing the man bent over her limp body, shaking her lightly. I released the breath and relaxed as I realized it was only Frank.

"Frank?" I moaned desperately.

He turned in a moment of shock to look at me, his eyes painted with fear and confusion.

"Claire." He moaned.

"Frank." I acknowledged, still in a moment of confusion as I tried to understand what had happened. Logic told me I must have fainted. Or perhaps suffered a stroke or seizure. Since I'd been holding Brianna, she must have fallen when I did and become unconscious. I felt a large pang of guilt and shame for having brought Brie on this trip before I was healthy.

"She's breathing." He assured me.

Although it did calm me a little, I had been a nurse long enough to know how easy it was to mis-read a pulse, which it appeared he was checking for as he made this assessment.

"What happened?" I demanded lightly as I pushed him out of the way to begin my inspection.

"I'm not sure."

"We should get her back to town." I told him. "Do you know how she got to the ground?"

"I was holding her." he answered quickly. "I put her down."

"Softly?"

"Of course, Claire." he snapped.

"I do not doubt you care for her." I snapped. "But I need to know if she might have a spinal injury. If not, we can move her."

"She should be fine." He assured me.

"Alright, pick her up and let's get her to the car." He did as I commanded eagerly and followed me as I raced down the hill.

But there was no road.

"Where's the road?" I wondered. Had we gone the wrong way?

"This is where we came up." He said, cradling Brianna in his arms.

We looked around for a moment but I was too panicked over my unconscious daughter. Frank looked around with a confounded expression as if attempting difficult calculus in his head. I stepped closer to him focusing on Brie as I started lightly petting her hair. Almost as if answering the touch, her eyes slowly opened and her chest rose noticeably.

"Oh God." I cried pulling my daughter into my arms and hugging her tightly. "Oh Brianna, are you alright?"

"Mama?" She whimpered squeezing her eyes shut.

"Does the light bother you?" I wondered quickly.

"I'm okay." She breathed.

"This does not make any sense." Frank breathed.

"What doesn't?" I very nearly snapped at him but my irritation was based off fear rather than anger and he understood that so he ignored my tone.

"Nothing I... I am being foolish." He replied simply.

"Look at the horsey!" Brie's voice was small but determined as she pointed into the slight distance where a horse driven cart appeared to be crossing out from the deep forest.

The idea appeared vintage to me. The cart was clearly not created for comfort as much as aesthetics, but whoever drove it would be able to help us navigate our area without exhausting ourselves. I believe Frank had a similar thought because he silently began leading us in a path that would interact with the cart driver. I continued to question Brianna as we intercept the driver of the cart.

He appeared to be a tall man with long dark hair and nearly black eyes. She was covered in a layer of sweat and dirt which I was sure I could almost smell from where I stood on the ground. His fingers were filthy and he wore a green plaid quilt with his legs open and nothing under. Next to him was a woman, I assumed to be his wife who had blonde hair held back messily in a bun. Like the man, she was dirty but it was her clothing that surprised me the most. The woman dressed in a beige dress that appeared to belong more in the 1700's and I almost understood the horse and carriage now. Certainly, they must have been going to or returning from a period play or party.

I remembered, suddenly, all the strange holidays the Scottish celebrated and wondered exactly what this one was meant to commemorate. Surely Frank would know.

"Oye, are you all right?" the man inquired curiously, stopping his horse so that he could examine us.

"Yes, very." Frank answered with a small smile. "But we appear to have gotten lost. Would you possibly be able to point us in the direction of the main road."

"Yer on it." The man laughed and the woman appeared amused.

"We aren't able to find our car," I started, surprising the man. "Would you know if there was a different road on the other side of the hill?"

"I dinna ken what is a car, but this is the only road, lassie." He shrugged. "But you all appear very lost. And..." He seemed hesitant but I could not understand why. His eyes roamed my body quickly before glancing away to his wife who offered him a dark look. "You appear a wee bit under dressed. My wife and I are on our way to Inverness. Would you perhaps like a ride?"

"That would be excellent, thank you." I had surprised the man once more by speaking but started for the carriage where Frank and Brie quickly joined.

"Are you returning from a festival?" Frank wondered after the cart had moved. There was not much room in it. Food and camping supplies seemed to take up most of the space. The food was not maintained in sanitary or careful conditions but I considered it may just be part of the look of the carriage.

"Nah, We were visiting my cousin in Beauly." He answered.

"She and her husband had a wee lass no more than a fort-night ago. We thought we should give them a visit before winter should come." His wife spoke for the first time with a small. Like her husband, she had a strong Scottish accent which was almost hard to understand.

I could not understand why they would be worrying about winter now. They had months until it became an issue, and it wasn't as if train stations closed for some snow unless they had to.

"So what did happen to you?" The woman continued. "As my husband mentioned, you do appear a wee tad under dressed. Is your wee lassie wearing trousers?"

Frank and I shared a small confused glance as Brie started laughing. She'd been enjoying all of the people in Scotland who had referred to her as "wee lass". I think she just liked the way the words sounded.

"Such a sweet thing she is." The woman smiled. "I cannot wait until me an' my Robert have a few of our own." She put her hand on the man's shoulder.

"Thank you very much for accommodating us." Frank said suddenly. "I am not sure how we became so lost."

"Oh, 'tis no trouble." The woman smiled.

"We couldna simply leave a poor couple and their wee bairn out to wonder lost in the cold." The man excused. "Sassanach or no."

 _Sassanach_. The word left a painful ache in the pit of my stomach. I determined the ache was due to the years I had missed since I'd first learned the word in Scotland so many years ago. To me it had been only a few months, but the crashing reality could not be avoided.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! The next chapter will be in Jamies POV. It had originally planned to keep him out of the story until chapter 6 or 7, but I think it would be more interesting to include him sooner.**

 **Thanks again for reading!**


	5. Her

**Chapter 5**

 ** _Her_**

.

He'd fallen asleep in the barn again. He didn't mind, of course. It was preferable to the crapped service quarters shared by nearly half of the Dunsany family staff. He had been polite enough while he worked for them, under the name of Alex Mackenzie, after Lord John Grey had placed him in their care to serve his parole after Ardsmuir Prison a year before.

He had become well liked by both Lord and Lady Dunsany, and apparently by one of their daughters Geneva, though he avoided her as if she were a plague.

His tired arms wrapped, as they often did, around the empty air in front of him and he once more was woken by the crushing remembrance that she was still gone and he was still alone. Sometimes, especially in moments like these, he questioned whether it had been worth it. Should he have been so naive to send her away? With his baby? Without have any certainty that it would work or that she would be safe? Her or the baby?

A large part of him had expected her not to go. She always had been stubborn-he'd prayed that time she would listen, and had regretted it ever since. The worst part was not knowing. He did not know what had happened to her or the bairn. He didn't know if she'd made it back to Frank, or if Frank had accepted her back as Jamie both hoped and feared he would. Or maybe she had been sent once more back in time. To an even more dangerous time. Maybe she'd yet again found a man she loved even more than him. _No_ , he thought. He would not allow himself to consider such a thing. It was nonsense he'd created so he'd have a reason to be angry at Claire, more than himself for letting her leave-or making her go. And so he would not need to be jealous or angry any longer at Frank.

The fear that she had not made it through the stones was the worst part. Had something happened to her on his side of the stones? Could he really have saved her? Perhaps it was truly his own fault that he was without her. He momentarily cursed both her and himself for her being gone. For her absence causing him the nightmares that he'd once thought he'd rid himself of. More recently the nightmares seemed to increase. He would dream of her and the bairn, his son, and sometimes of Jack Randall with them, taunting Jamie with his wife and child.

Jamie shoot his head then and opened his eyes. He stiffly pulled himself up from the hay bed he'd created and rubbed his hands roughly over his face. _No_ , he told himself, _no I do not regret sending them to Frank_. He decided, as he did every morning after the pain numbed, that he would suffer all his losses and more a thousand times more to see his wife and child safe and happy. If that meant they were with another man, which he convinced himself once more, he would gladly see them left in the other man's care.

"Please, Lord, let them be safe." Be breathed before being startled by the sounds of loud steps at the gate of the barn.

The other workers had arrived meaning it was time to get up and start working.

Jamie was standing and brushing hay off himself by the time the others had entered the barn to see him.

"Fall asleep while working again, did you Alex?" A man named Nigel laughed. The laughter echoed in a chorus behind him and Jamie offered a small smile. It felt foreign to him-trying to smile. He had not laughed or smiled completely since she'd left. "I don't like the job somedays, either, but it sure is better than sleeping on a bed of straw."

"Aye," Jamie answered with the ghost of a grin on his face. "But 'twas better than staying another night with the bunch of you. Noisy bastards never let me sleep."

They all laughed at this and although it made Jamie happy that he'd amused them, he found it nearly impossible to join in with their laughter and humor. The rest of the men started towards their jobs as a younger boy, around 15 approached Jamie.

"I brought you some bread, Alex." He said almost hesitantly. "Y-you missed breakfast."

"Aye." That was a disappointment, Jamie thought. He didn't like much of the English foods but he didn't like being hungry all that much more. "Thank you, Jimmy."

The boy smiled proudly and nodded once before racing off to start his chores.

The sun was almost at its highest when one of the stable workers raced from the main house towards the barn.

"She's coming! She's coming!" He warned loudly. As always, this took Jamie by surprise but it never took him more than a moment to understand.

"Straws men." Nigel called and six of the grouped into a circled. "Shortest straw must take it."

But after all straws were pulled, it was a man named Robert who would be expected to escort Lord Dunsany's daughter, Geneva, on her morning ride.

"A tad late, isn't she?" He wondered as he reached for his saddle.

"I was almost expecting her to miss today's ride." Another nodded.

"Or hoping." Another laughed.

"Is my horse ready yet?" Her voice echoed from beyond the barn, warning them of her arrival.

She marched in looking angrier than she normally did. More annoyed.

"Almost, m'am." Robert offered.

"Mr. Mackenzie will accompany me today." She determined.

This surprised them all, especially Jamie who wanted nothing less in the world.

He was about to complain and state that Robert was just as safe as he was, but she spoke before he could.

"My father has invited an old acquaintance to stay with us while he and his family reestablish themselves, or something of that sort." She rolled her eyes. "I wish to be off before they tour here. So hurry will you, Mr. Mackenzie?"

She turned on her heel and marched out to wait for them to bring her a horse.

Jamie groaned and gave a dark look to the rest of the small crowd who offered snickers and looks of sympathetic understanding.

He was hesitant to meet her outside the barn, but she'd start yelling if he didn't and he would prefer not to let the annoying girl cause him punishment.

"Are ye ready?" He wondered choosing not to look directly at her as he offered her his hand.

"I am." She acknowledged, accepting his hand and his help to mount her horse. He followed this motion onto his own horse and began to follow her unhappily along the trail.

Jamie had hoped that perhaps this would be one of those times she remained quiet for the ride. Evidently, with the appearance of her father's old acquaintance, she was too upset to remain silent.

"I am already expected to entertain the terrible suitors my parents arrange the visit of, but now I must entertain these strangers daily? In my own home? It is simply not fair! And it is not as if the suitors are all that terribly desirable. Most of them are older than my father, and twice as boring."

Jaime found it nearly impossible to sympathize with the often rude girl. It was the suitors who would suffer the most from their union. Her father was doing what any good father would-what Jamie would have been doing for Faith, or for the unknown baby his wife had borne in another time. He shook the idea from his mind. The men Geneva's father was calling for were wealthy men who would likely not live long enough to bother her too much, and who would also leave her a wealthy widow. He didn't mention this to her, though.

"I don't want to share my home with any more strangers." She snapped. "Father says it is his responsibility since it is his land and he's known the man for so long. I think the only reason my mother has accepted him is that he fought in Colluden with my brother." She paused for a moment then, "On the side of the English, of course."

Jamie did not answer. Although he could have excused the possibility of her trying to use this statement to bait him into admitting he'd once fought against Britain as his reason for staying silent, he stayed silent simply because he wanted to hear her speak no more.

"Mr. Mackenzie?" She wondered. He groaned internally and rolled his eyes before turning to acknowledge her. She did not require further recognition to respond. "Was the battle as terrible as they say? I know it is not my place to wonder such things, but for the sake of my brother, I do."

"It wassna good." He told her as plainly as he could. "But your brother would have died well. You can rest well on that."

"Did you fight in Colluden?" She wondered without hesitation.

"Was is no matter your mother or father would want you to fesh yourself with." He dismissed. "A few more miles north, then we must be heading back."

"Why?" She demanded.

"I've chores to attend to." He explained.

"Our ride has only just begun."

"And I will give you a few more miles, but I must have my work done too."

She snubbed this idea with pure bitterness but remained quiet for a short time.

Jamie was no happier when she spoke again.

"Do you think I am beautiful?" She wondered.

"Aye." He answered though he thought that beauty was diminished by her aggressive, arrogant, and bratty personality. "You're a bonny lass."

"Would you want me?" She continued.

"Would I want you?" He repeated in disbelief.

"As you once wanted your wife." She explained assuming his disbelief was confusion. He decided it was best not to insult her with a harsh response. So he gave her no response. "I do not want to give myself to whichever husband my father chooses. I want to decide who I lay with. Especially the first time."

"This is not a matter I feel comfortable to debate."

"Well, I would like to debate the idea."

"What idea is there to be debated?"

"The idea of your taking my virginity." She answered calmly,

He spat out a surprised cough, but was not as surprised and disgusted. He did not want her. His love for and his desire to remain faithful to Claire was unnecessary for this disgust. He did not like her as a person, and unfortunately he had been forced to endure her for too long for this dislike to be ignored, even for three minutes.

Plus, he had not been raised to lie with a girl he did not love. Especially not one who was half his age.

"I willna do such a thing." He spat at her. "Take the foolish idea out of your head now, lass."

He turned his horse in that moment and began home. He did not care whether she followed or not, but a few minutes later he heard her voice from behind him; "Did you think you would just leave me alone in the forest?"

"No." He answered, not looking back. "But I didna care whether you were to follow me or no."

"You will take my virginity, Mr. Mackenzie." She swore. "Or I shall tell everyone you have taken it by force. I will throw myself to the ground now, crying for help and tell them you did it here."

He stopped his horse then and turned back to her, giving her a dark, angry glare. He wanted to think it was beyond her level of selfishness and greed to threaten a man with his own life and freedom, but he couldn't.

"Dinna make threats you canna keep up with. Your father willna believe I'd done such a thing." He noted. "But even if he did, returning to prison would be much better than remaining any longer with a wee brat like you."

Then he turned his horse and headed home. She followed close behind, contemplating his words. But he feared she had not been dismayed.

The barn was busy when they returned but the workers appeared to remain on the sides of the paths as they worked. Jamie quickly understood why when he noticed Lord and Lady Dunsany. They smiled as the spoke to a couple who had their back turned to Jamie.

There was something uncanny about the couple, although he could not see their faces. Something in the way they stood sparked at points of his memory which he could not identify. He dwelled on it silently as he dismounted from his horse.

"Is this your pony?" He turned in surprise to the small voice that spoke just behind him. A small girl, no older than eight years old stood behind him with a purple and beige dress highlighting her long orange hair. Her wide blue eyes watched him curiously as he reigned in his surprise. Surely he should have noticed the child a few moments before? She couldn't have dropped out of the sky, could she?

"This is Duncan." Jamie answered patting the horses neck and trying to forget the shock of surprise. He was not shocked so much by the sudden appearance of the girl, but rather her striking appearance. She was still a child, yet her eyes sparkled so beautifully he thought he could see the stars in them. And her face held some sort of sweetness mixed with intelligent curiosity that held his attention without any effort. "His is no mine but, I do like him quite a lot."

The girl smiled at him. "I would like a pony. But my daddy says I would not have the time to care for one."

"That is a responsible father you have then, lassie." He acknowledged with a small smile, lowering to one knee so he could look her face to face. "Horses are big responsibilities. And ye shouldna take your responsibilities lightly."

"Mama says that, too." She nodded, then looked around him and her eyes turned suddenly hopefully. "Hello, Miss Geneva!"

Jamie had not noticed the girl arrive behind him. She was dismounting from her horse when the young girl had noticed her, but gave the girl a dismissive glare before waltzing away towards the main house.

"She does not like me very much." The small girl whimpered sadly to Jamie.

"Do not fesh, lassie." He felt his lips curl up into a small smile. He was surprised by her ability to do this, but realized quickly why he felt a sudden desire to make her happy. No, he did not want to leave a small child to feel unhappy, but the girl reminded him of Faith. The daughter he had never seen or met, but only dreamed of. Although he had no reason to make the connection, he found it suddenly impossible to ignore. He lightly put a hand on her shoulder as if to support her. "She is angry at me, not at you."

"Why is she angry at you?"

"I upset her on our ride."

"Shouldn't you apologize?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smirked. "I willna apologize. I was within my rights to refuse her requests."

The girl thought of this for a moment, then seemed once again distracted by the horse.

"Isobel likes me." She thought softly.

"Aye, I'm sure she does." He nodded. "Would you like to sit on Duncan, Lassie? You canna ride him quite yet but sitting should no no harm."

"Really?" She beamed hopeful and excited all at once.

"Aye." He smiled and picked her up, placing her onto the horse. Her eyes widened once she was seated on him as she notice the distance to the ground around her. "Try not to move much." Jamie warned. "You don't want to send him forward. He will not go far but he will not stop until he finds food."

"Oh my goodness, Brie!" Jamie froze when he heard the voice approaching from behind him. His entire body clenched to a freeze but he could not turn himself to look.

"Look, daddy! I'm on a horse!" The girl smiled proudly.

"That you are, sweetheart." Jamie felt his skin crawl as Johnathon Randall stepped beside him and began petting the horse. If he had not been so frozen by shock and terror- -if he had not seen him so often in his nightmares, he would have killed the man once more the moment he heard his voice. But he had killed him. He had seen him dead at Colluden.

Jamie feared taking a breath. He feared trying to understand how this ghost of a demon could have once more found him in life. He couldn't be, no. Jamie chanced a sideways glance and clenched once more in agonizing fear. _He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_.

No matter how many times he said it, the reality seemed to be that Johnathon Randall might not be dead after all. Or it could be another of his brothers, Jamie realized. Because the man did not share the same eyes as Randall. His face was moderately different, or so he tried to convince himself. He did not look at Jamie with a deprived hunger. He appeared sweet and loving towards his daughter. Still, Jamie took one step back to further himself from the man.

"Hello." The ghost said, smiling kindly at Jamie. "My name is Johnathon Randall. Thank you for letting my daughter sit on your animal."

Jamie locked his jaw and reminded himself once more that there must have been a rational explanation. This could not be the same Jack Randall. It could not be. And murdering him before so many witnesses would not earn his freedom any faster. He needed to remember that most.

But Jamie also remembered Mary. The girl who had married Johnathon one day before Colluden because she was pregnant with Alex Randalls bastard. That child would be around the same age as this small child. Jamie felt it was suddenly almost impossible to breathe, and felt himself struggle for consciousness. He would have fainted, but refused to do so in the presence of such a man.

Jamie had survived Colluden, against all odds. He'd been thought dead and nearly left, twice. It could be completely possible that Randall had experienced the same. He determined that he would wait until he saw the woman. If it were the same young Mary he'd met so many years before, then this man would die the moment they were alone together. But if she wasn't, it was probably Randall's elder brother.

It was difficult for him, but Jamie managed to peel his eyes away from Randall to look in the direction of the Dunsany's who led the woman over. It was not Mary, he knew instantly. Without giving much attention to her features, he could tell that she was too tall and confident to be the same girl he'd met in Paris. The woman looked up with a pleasant smile towards her husband and child. At that point Jamie saw her face and his heart stopped almost completely.

It was her.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I will hopefully update soon.**


	6. Through The Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 6**

 _ **Through the Rabbit Hole**_

 _ **.**_

We had ended in Inverness as we wanted only to discover it was not as we had left it. Though we did not want to believe it, we determined we were no longer in the 1950's. We had gotten clothing by trading it for our bracelets-they were missing the largest gemstones anyways- and tried to investigate where we were and how we got here.

Frank seemed much less excited than I would have expected considering he had spent over half his life invested in learning the history of Scotland and England in the 1700's, and now here we were. He was panicked, not that I blamed him, and held onto Brie as if she might disappear if he let go. Sometimes he gave me looks of sheer horror and panic. When this would happen I would take his hand and smile encouragingly. It did not seem to settle him much.

While in Inverness we had been lucky. Redcoats who had been passing through noticed us and believed Frank to be the long since deceased Captain Jack Randall. We used this to our advantage and used his title to help us return to England. We first went to London where Frank was expected to explain to his superiors how he had survived and why he had not returned to the army. Frank is an excellent spy though, with a strong understanding of the politics and policies of the British during this time. He danced easily passed their suspicions and into freedom.

The men we met seemed hesitant of Frank when they first met him. The terrible reputation of Jack Randall was not easy to avoid, but Frank was more charismatic and convinced them with graceful ease to like him. Despite my anger at him for hiding behind my amnesia and being unfaithful, I felt a swelling pride at how successfully he was caring for us 200 years in the past.

"I must meet with Mary Randall today." Frank told me as we helped one another dress in our government issued apartment. "News has traveled fast that I have returned from the dead with another wife and child. I may have gotten myself out of treason and abandonment charges, but if she wishes, Mary Randall could easily destroy everything I have done for us."

He turned after fixing himself in the mirror and kissed me once. He was hesitant but my willingness to kiss him gave him the confidence he needed. I was still upset by his actions, and felt a deepening pain and loss I could not explain without my memories, but this situation had put my troubles into perspective. And there are worse things than being cheated on, no matter how awful it might be.

"Would you like to come with me?" He wondered, his voice filled with deep fascination. No matter how important this meeting might be, his historic curiosity could not be ignored. In this moment he was preparing to meet his great-great-great grandmother-pretending to be her newly revived husband, but still.

"I very much would." I smiled at him then shook my head once. "But I cannot imagine it would fill your old wife with much happiness. To learn her husband is not only alive but with another woman."

"A woman I met first." He reminded.

"And that poor child." I sighed, truly feeling bad for their son. No, Frank was not his real father, quite the opposite, but he was pretending to be the only father the poor boy would know, with the intention of leaving the child once more after arriving. "I cannot imagine this will be easy on him."

"I do hope that Mary does not think it wise to introduce us before I can speak with her privately." Frank must have been thinking the same thing I was. A part of me wanted to loan her my husband for the while. So that her child could have its father until we found our way home and could perhaps fake Johnathon's death so that the son would have a memory of a father who wanted him, rather than one who'd abandoned him.

I could not believe the desire made me feel happy. How could I be so willing to give Frank away? What was so wrong with me that I would share my husband with another woman. Or even go an extended amount of time without him? But the idea filled me with peace. Because I wanted Frank to be happy, as well as his ancestors.

"I will be home soon." Frank announced, kissing me once more.

"Tell me how it goes." I requested.

"I will." He vowed before swiftly making his exit.

I left the room to find Brianna who was seated by a vintage, or I suppose it could be new in this time, piano.

"Hello, darling." I smiled at her.

"Hello, mama." She lazily allowed her fingers to drop heavily on the keys creating a bellowing moan from the back of the piano.

"How are you adjusting?" I wondered petting her hair softly behind her ear. When Frank had hesitantly suggested to me that we had gone backwards in time, I had thought he'd gone mad. Or was hopeful because his love of history. But I was calm when I understood. The same could not be said about Brianna.

She of course could not ask the strangers of the town if she'd gone back in time, which is what she'd tried to do in Scotland because she didn't fully believe us. And although she was young enough that I would have thought her imagination could easily accept this, she'd been deeply upset and worried upon slowly realizing all the ways in which the world was now different. Especially since we did not allow her to discuss differences when we were not in the safe privacy of the apartment.

Because she is a child, she'd wanted to share her advanced knowledge with everyone in the community, including the new found knowledge that time travel was apparently real. So we did not let her speak when in public, fearing she might let something slip out by accident. This was not something she enjoyed.

"Fine." She muttered. "I'm bored. I wish I could watch tv."

"You see, Brie," I sighed. "That is one of the things we cannot say anymore. It is alright to think it, but we need to be careful."

"I'm only talking to you and we're in the apartment!" She defended.

"We do not know who might be lurking around and we don't know how thin these walls are." I explained. "The people of this time won't believe us. They will think we are witches or monsters."

"Maybe they won't." She mumbled.

"Your father knows more than us about these times." I reminded. "If he says they will, then I am very sure they will."

"Alright, I won't bring it up anymore. Can we go outside?" She begged.

"When your father returns." I offered.

"That could be forever." She whined.

"It will not be forever." I laughed. "It will only be a few hours."

"What will we do for these few hours?" She inquired.

" _Hm_." I wondered. "How about a game of chess?"

It did feel like forever until Frank returned. Brianna and I had already had supper before he was finally home.

"Where have you been?" I nearly demanded when he walked through the door.

"The courthouse." He groaned as he pulled at his jacket.

"The courthouse?"

"Yes." He left his tired state with his jacket at the door and entered the candle lit kitchen where he sat and I fed him the rest of the poorly-made stew. I was surprisingly good at understanding how to cook in this century. I would say it was like riding a bike, but I never remembered learning 18th century cooking. Still, I was not the best and choosing the ingredients to add into a good stew, based on the tiny selection I had been given. "Mary Randall remarried. A man named Roger Isaac. It appears my-or Johnathon's-reappearance was just as inconvenient for her as it was for us. We needed to offer an official divorce and apology to the church so we could continue our lives apart."

"Huh." I understood that most marriages during this time, especially for those of higher birth, were based on expectation rather than love, but I still found it incredibly strange that a woman could see her husband who had been dead for nearly ten years and instantly want a divorce. No questions, no dramatics. "No love lost between them, I suppose."

"They had only been married a day or so before he died, my dear." Frank reminded me. He seemed unimpressed by his first taste of the stew but quickly changed his expression to did that. "This is very good, dear."

"Still, I find it strange." I thought, "And thank you. You don't need to pretend you like it if you don't."

"She is Mary Isaacs now." Frank told me avoiding that subject. "She and her child are cared for, and you and I are free to continue to parade ourselves as man and wife."

"That is wonderful news."

"Yes." He seemed once again to be lost in thought. "Does that remind you of anything?"

"What?" I wondered.

"Mary Hawkins-Randall." He said each word like its own sentence. "My meeting her. Does it... remind you of anything?"

"No, I don't think so." I thought taking a seat across from him. "Should it?"

"No." He decided shaking his head. "No. It doesn't."

"Frank?" I wondered. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing, dear," He mused. "I just... Speaking with Mary today... I am sorry to admit I am glad you were not with me. She was... remembering, the case in which we were married. I honestly cannot say I believed most of what she told me it... was more like a fantasy."

"What was it?" I wondered walking towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's nothing." He determined. "This is all just very surreal."

"I know." I sighed. "We will find a way home."

"I know our way home." He noted.

"You do?" I gasped in disbelief.

"Yes." He nodded. "We need to get back to Craigh na Dun."

"What makes you so sure?" I wondered.

His eyes were sad and desperate, so I deduced he must have been trying to act brave. He wasn't sure but he was hopeful, maybe. "I heard stories of people going through the stones and to another time. I never truly believed these stories, of course. It was complete nonsense. But now..." He looked into my eyes as if searching for something. Maybe he was curious of whether I believed him. "I have no choice to believe."

"How long have you known this?" I pressed.

"The stories I first heard when we were still in Scotland. You knew them too. If you still had your memories, I imagine this would be a much different conversation."

I put my hand on his shoulder and offered a sympathetic smile.

"Have the nightmares stopped?" He wondered. "At the very least?"

"They have." But my sleep was still unsettled. Scotland had soothed the nightmares but not an aching guilt beyond my explanation.

"That is good." He breathed shaking his head once. "I... Tomorrow I am going to send word to an old acquaintance of Johnathon's. Mary said I met him through the Duke of Sandringham, and they may still have feelings of fond loyalty towards me. We can arrange passage back to Scotland from there, without worrying the British that I might desert."He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand "For now my darling, I am exhausted."

"You can go to bed then." I offered. "But say goodnight to Brianna, will you? She's been waiting all day for you to return."

A small smile stretched on his lips, but no other emotions appeared on his face. "Alright." He stood but hesitated to step forwards, "Will you join me... tonight?"

"Join you?" I repeated in some confusion.

"Yes," He hesitated, "As man and wife."

 _Oh_. It was my turn to hesitate then, but I said, "I think we both had a very long day." This was the only excuse he needed. He nodded and exited the dining area.

It was not that I didn't want Frank, I did. And being in this time made me want him more-I wanted the security of his knowledge, I wanted his protection for my daughter, but mostly... I was not sure exactly what I wanted, but my intuition told me it was my husband I craved. So why did such a large part of me feel so guilty about being with him again? I thought I had forgiven him-mostly, anyways. I thought I should be able to stomach the idea of being with him; having him inside me, but I couldn't. And the longer we spent in this time, the worse that feeling seemed to be, but it was also the more I craved him.

I shook my head and started putting away the dishes from dinner. There was left over stew but no refrigerator so I had no idea what to do with it. Surely, I was not meant to throw it away. As I tried to work around the kitchen as appropriately as a woman in this time should know how to do, I found myself craving the touch of a man I was sure was not Frank. Then I understood!

As much as I could try to forgive him, he'd still betrayed me. And I could not roll over and ignore that. I wanted to cause him the same anger he'd caused me... I could not understand why I would want such a thing, though. I loved Frank. Being with him, no matter what he'd done, should make me happy, shouldn't it?

 _Ugh_! I did not know what to do with the food! The keepers of this apartment were either going to hate me or laugh at me once the building became rat infested because I haven't the knowledge everyone in this time should have about handling food.

I determined I would leave the stew in the oven, without a fire under it, and go to bed.

* * *

The ride north was long and tiring. If I was not so used to cars, airplanes and turbulence, the rocking the road caused on our carriage would have made me sick. Brianna and I sat on one side of the closed carriage while Frank sat on the other, pointing through the window to show us landmarks and share historic facts about them. Brianna held onto every one of his words, but I found him difficult to hear past my efforts to keep my breakfast in my stomach. The landscape was beautiful, and sometimes I could get lost in it until another bump would bring me back to my aching stomach.

"How much longer?" I moaned, not meaning to sound as if I were complaining. This would have been a very pleasant experience if it were not for the shaking, and the itching reminder that, based on how other people appeared to act around Sir Johnathon Randall, I probably should despise being in close captivity to the man. But each time I thought I wanted to be away from him, I reminded myself that this was not the notorious Jack Randall, rather it was my beloved husband Frank... it was getting more and more difficult to place the word "beloved" in front of that title.

I would need to find a way around my anger and resentment soon.

Or maybe it was the part of me from when I was 25 just getting back from the war that wanted to love Frank. Maybe I had stopped loving him, though I could not understand why, since then and my instincts were simply trying to remind me. Could I really have stopped loving him, though? That could not be true. No matter how much he hurt me. So why did such a large part of me want to be away from him?

I was angry, I decided. And it had not been long enough for me to fully forgive him for betraying my trust in so many different ways. We would get over it, if both of us wanted that. And after I had my memories back, I could make a justified decision on what steps I should take next. For now, I would attempt to enjoy my husband as a family on a once in a life time family holiday.

At least, I thought, I had Frank and Brianna with me. I could not imagine I would have felt very comfortable if I had been sent through time on my own; especially missing my memories. What if I had broken bones during the time I had forgotten, and walking such distances would hurt them? Who knows who or what would have happened?

I tried to convince myself that I would have been okay. Because I would have taken the cart to Inverness and made my way to England claiming to be searching for Jack Randall, whose widow would have sent me to these family friends. No, I decided that was non-sense. Mary Randall-Isaacs wouldn't have had any reason to help me, or to send me to the Dunsany family.

The estate was larger than I every would have expected. We could see it for miles before finally approaching. And the closer it got, the bigger it became.

"Who would ever need a house so large?" I wondered.

"This is actually quite moderate for the times." Frank informed me. "Wealthier families would have much more."

I smirked at him then, "I assume we should not mention that to them."

"No, we should not." He agreed with a small smile that made me thing everything would be alright.

Their servants were waiting outside to greet us, and the Dunsany family emerged from the house as our carriage stopped.

"Captain Johnathon Randall!" Lord Dunsany smiled fondly at Frank, giving me a chilling fear that we may not be able to maintain our charade for long. He approached as if he might embrace Frank, but stopped himself just short of the informal action. "And this must be your lovely new wife; madam." He smiled taking my hand softly before turning to Brianna. "And who is this lovely lady?"

"My daughter, Miss. Brianna Randall." Frank introduced. "Brianna, Claire, this is my old friend, Lord Dunsany."

I almost believed him for a moment. Lord Dunsany obviously did because he dismissed the informal introduction of myself and Brie.

"Oh, you flatter me, old friend." Lord Dunsany smiled. "You remember my wife, Lady Dunsany, and our daughters, Lady Geneva and Lady Isobel Dunsany."

"Darling, it has been so long since Captain Randall has visited. The girls were still in their nurse maids arms when he last say them." Lady Dunsany smiled as she spoke.

Lord Dunsany appeared amused by this, "You are correct, my lady." He turned his attention back to us. "I apologize for not having my stable lad out here to take your carriage away. I had been informed your carriage would not be staying. If I was incorrect, I can have my servants fetch him immediately. Oh, Captain, you would find him the most pleasurable to look at." This statement surprised me for a moment, until the Lord added in laughter, "He's the ugliest colour of hair a man could possibly possess. It is truly a delight to see, and to thank god my children were born without."

I think the lady pinched his arm because he glanced back at her for a moment before his eyes turned to Brianna.

"A similar colour to your daughters, but it fairs her much better than it does him." He amended quickly, apparently fearing he might later cause us insult. "It suites young ladies much better than men."

"Thank you." I smiled with a slight head nod because I wanted him to shut up.

"Come," Lady Dunsany smiled. "Let us give you a tour while our servants take your things to your quarters."

"We appreciate that greatly." I smiled as they began leading us into the house.

* * *

The tour ended in the main hall where their daughter Geneva quickly made her escape for her daily ride, which she was apparently already late for. I found Geneva almost instantly irritating whereas Isobel was one of the sweetest people I had ever met. I struggled to understand how two such opposite girls could have originated from the same place.

Geneva, I think I disliked, because of how quickly she dismissed Brianna. She was cold to Brie when Brie only wanted to say hello or ask her a question about the estate, and acted as if she should not be lowered to the expectation she should entertain strangers in her own home.

I was thankful for Isobel who stepped in for Geneva and talked to Brianna and answered her questions during the tour.

"You must be famished after such a long journey." Lady Dunsany smiled. "How about you wash and dress, then we will enjoy some tea before exploring the stables. I remembered Young Brianna mentioning her interest in the animals."

"We get to see horses?!" Brianna beamed. The lady smiled and nodded before having a servant lead us back to our chambers.

"They seem nice." Frank noted.

"Nice, but I think you have more of a history with Lord Dunsany than we might have thought. What if we say the wrong thing?" I wondered.

"I will excuse it for a poor memory after the war." He answered.

I rolled my eyes but changed and met our hosts downstairs.

Lady Dunsany, who appeared to have already fallen in love with Brianna, had a servant waiting at tea ready to serve only Brie with whatever snacks she might want.

Frank and I were separated for the tea. I sat with Lady Dunsany, Brianna, and Isobel while Frank and Lord Dunsany escaped elsewhere. The discussion was simple, inquiries about our travels and curiosity over how Johnathon had survived. Frank and I had already planned our story to ensure it matched, so this did not worry me.

"Can we go see the horses soon?" Brianna wondered.

"The moment the men are finished their reunion." Lady Dunsany smiled. I felt a sudden panic in my chest at these words. _Reunion_. So Frank would be expected to remissness with a man he'd met no more than thirty minutes before. I wanted to believe he could do it. I was sure he could. But what if I was wrong?

I don't think I was because when they finally emerged from their bonding time, Lord Dunsany looked more than satisfied that this man was one he loved and respected.

"Can we go now?" Brie whispered to me when she saw them.

"We must wait for an invitation." I whispered back, but the whispering was only a show because Lady Dunsany could very clearly hear us and was happy to please.

"Gentlemen." She smiled, standing from her seat. "Do you suppose it may be time to allow our young guests to visit the ponies she so desires?"

I could almost feel Brianna internally screaming " _YES_!"

"If it would please my dear old friend, here." Lord Dunsany, I realized from his pleasant expression, had not been as comfortable to have is when we arrived as I had originally assumed. He'd smiled and played his part excellently, but the contrast now was like day and night. Although he had apparently not been as fond as Captain Jack Randall as we had been led to believe, he was rather fond of Frank. "My dear, I had forgotten what it was like to speak with you, Captain. Oh, how the years have changed us."

"Indeed." Frank smiled.

"Let us lead you then, to the stables." Lord Dunsany smiled. "Like you, young madam, my daughter Geneva loves to ride."

Brie beamed with excitement as they led us away from the terrace and towards the distant stable.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and for your supportive comments! I will hopefully have an update soon! :)**


	7. You Again

**Hey! Thanks for reading this far! (Unless you just skipped to this chapter to get an idea of where the story is going, in which case spoilers maybe). I have been debating what would have changed if Frank had been left in the 1950's but mostly I think it would have just been a retelling of how Claire and Jamie met, (which I wouldn't mind reading myself but I saw a few holes in that.), only she wouldn't have known they had met before and he would. When I first started this story I just didn't know how that conversation would go without her thinking he was crazier than she was. Now I think I could make it happen but don't want to go back and change everything. I do still like this idea because everyone is being introduced-or reintroduced with different identities which helps to hinder Claire's ability to remember things properly. (Because she is hearing Alex Mackenzie rather than James Fraser ;) and she is convincing herself that any hatred of Jack Randall is really anger focused at Frank.)**

 **But I do like that idea so if someone else wants to take that idea and run with it, feel free but please let me know what and where because I'd love to read it too :). Or if people want I can also do a spin-off of this one where only Claire and Brianna go through.**

 _Any-who, thanks for reading! Now onto the story._

 **Chapter 7**

 _ **You Again**_

 _ **.**_

The stable was dirtier than I expected. I supposed I should not have been so surprised by this, though, considering the state of the century. Still, with such a lovely house I expected the same for the horses. I guess it must not matter to them much, the condition of the stables if they so rarely visited and could simply have their horses brought to them.

There appeared to be many buildings in the stable area. Two housed horses, and the rest housed hay, gear, and people. The ground was dry, at the very least but it meant dander and dust in the air. I felt dirty just standing. I wasn't sure I would be able to survive much longer without constant access to a warm bath, washing machines, and indoor plumbing.

"Hello, Henry." Lord Dunsany greeted a boy no more than 25 who appeared to be shoveling hay.

"My lord." The young man bowed instantly to him.

"Have you by any chance seen Mr. Mackenzie?" Dunsany wondered. "He has a fine eye for horses and I wanted to allow my guests to each take an animal for the time they are staying."

"That is too kind." I realized the moment I said it that I was probably being incredibly rude, but I also thought it would be ridiculous to accept such a thing. Frank grabbed my arm as if to beg me to stop, so I silenced myself but made a mental note to be annoyed at him later.

"Mr. Mackenzie is escorting Lady Geneva, at the moment." Henry answered immediately. "Maybe Duncan could be of assistance."

"That is quite alright." Lord Dunsany dismissed him before turning to us. "I would much prefer to see you all on fine, safe animals with sturdy training."

"Mr. Mackenzie has been a great asset since we acquired him only a while ago." Lady Dunsany explained with a proud smile.

"Where did you acquire him?" I wondered. I noticed Frank move and assumed he meant to stop me again. Oh hell to him, I am allowed to ask a question. But instead he turned and rushed away from us calling for Brianna.

"We do not like to discuss it." Lady Dunsany breathed quietly. "We took him in as a favour a dear old friend of our late son, Lord John Grey."

I had heard of Lord Grey a few times since being in this time. We had originally intended to meet him to discuss Frank-or Johnathon-'s apparent abandonment, but had met with ministers and generals instead. It had also been discussed that maybe John Grey would be best suited to escort us back to Scotland to re-institute Captain Randall, but we hadn't heard much more about that. For now, we were expected to stay with the Dunsany's waiting future notice.

"That is quite alright." I smiled.

"Ah, there is our man now." Lord Dunsany praised, leading us suddenly into the direction Frank and Brianna had just vanished towards.

I smiled as I noticed Brianna seated on a large horse with Frank standing just under her tensed as if ready to catch her if she fell. The man standing beside him was tall. A little taller than Frank with long red hair, dirty sun-tanned skin, large unavoidable arms, and dark blue eyes rounded so wide I would have thought he'd seen a ghost. His posture was so tense, I thought it must be due to some form of constipation. Probably not uncommon in these times, considering the quality of food.

He was dressed nicer than most of the other servants, but that was likely due to the Lord's apparent preference to him. This, I realized, must be the man he'd mentioned when we first arrived. His hair was nearly the exact colour as Brie's, but his was uncleaned.

"Captain Randall." Lord Dunsany greeted. "I see you have already met Mr. Mackenzie, one of our more... educated hands."

"I have." Frank smiled at Mr. Mackenzie who flinched and nearly scowled in response. "Though he had yet to introduce himself."

I saw Mr. Mackenzies jaw lock and his fists clench, and felt an un-explainable desire to get between the two men and check on Mr. Mackenzie. I would have blamed it on my medical history, but the desire was more territorial than that. I wanted to protect him from Frank, as if Frank were somehow a danger to this man.

"Come on, then Mackenzie." Lord Dunsany ordered.

"Aye." The man said taking a breathe a looking between myself and Frank with such sharp skepticism, I was momentarily sure he would announce we were pretenders. "My name is Alex Mackenzie."

Mackenzie gave me a curious side look and refused Franks outreached hand. I was not sure whether this was due to a foreignness of the action, or if the man hated Frank as much as the glare might assume he did. But why? I searched my brain for an explanation but none came to mind.

Maybe he wasn't glaring at Frank. Maybe he was just sick and upset, and this was showing on his face. That would work with my earlier noticing of his constipation.

"Captain Johnathon Randall." Frank introduced pleasantly, ignoring the man's clear discomfort. "My wife, madam Claire Randall and our daughter, Brianna."

Mr. Mackenzie didn't answered. Instead he looked between the three of us as if we were a difficult puzzle before allowing his face to relax to one resembling more towards sorrow. "Aye." He breathed so quietly I almost thought he'd said nothing at all. "I ken."

He took a deep breath and his eyes filled with stubborn determination that did something to my body that I refused to acknowledge. I was glad I wore such a large skirt because it hid my squeezing of my legs to fight my body's initial, and unwelcomed, response to the barbaric looking man.

"I remember you well from your time stationed in Scotland, Captain Randall." There it was. There was the accusation I had feared we would eventually hear. But I hadn't expected to hear it from a groom. Mackenzie was clearly Scottish, and his voice echoed through my body in a wave I had not experience when he had first introduced himself. I almost wanted to encourage him to speak more just to hear his voice, _oh how I craved that voice_ but I maintained myself and reminded myself that whatever he said could not be good for me or my family. "Forgive me for saying this, but I thought you were dead."

"As did we all," Lord Dunsany laughed. "But fortunately he is back and better than ever."

"Aye." Mackenzie nodded slowly, calculated. _Please_ , I begged him internally, _stop talking_. But another part of me would not work to stop him because I, for whatever reason, wanted so badly to hear his voice. "That is fortunate, isn't it. How-uh... How did ye survive, Captain? If you do not mind my asking?"

"That is an excellent tale." Lord Dunsany beamed. "Do tell us all again."

"Yes, well." Frank stammered a little, smiling shyly at me for support. "That is all due to the support of my lovely wife. She is a healer, you see. She'd been assisting at a nearby British camp when they brought me back, thinking me dead. She noticed something, I suppose, and brought me back to life. I was a tad groggy after the incident... I couldn't even remember my own name. After I did, well, we lived as farmers, raising our daughter until deciding to return home to England after I remembered more I had forgotten."

"A lady healer." Mackenzie, unlike the Dunsany's, did not appear convinced.

"Is that so impossible?" I demanded, more annoyed that he was threatening my family than anything else. But I felt a bubble of excitement I refused to acknowledge. I was talking to him! _Enough, Claire_ , I snapped mentally at myself.

"No." He appeared almost amused, almost relaxed by my outburst. "But it is a tad strange. How did a fair lady such as yourself find yourself on a battle field?"

I almost expected the Dunsany's to step in and quiet their employee, but I guess he was asking questions they'd not thought to ask and they undoubtedly were curious about the answer also.

"My husband." I answered because it was the truth.

"Your husband." He repeated. "Who was not Captain Randall."

I was about to argue that it was indeed Captain Randall because I'd never been married before him, but that could not be true to this story. So, no matter how much it pained me, I had to say, "Yes."

"Did you leave your husband then?" He continued to investigate. Why was nobody stopping him? I couldn't refuse to answer, though, or I would chance creating suspicion.

"You are a very intrusive employee, aren't you?" I demanded, as if I were a lady irritated by the poor manners of a servant, rather than a woman hiding from the truth. "If you must know, my husband died in battle."

"And you stayed with the army despite this?" He inquired.

"I am a healer." I answered. "I heal those in need."

"I imagine you must have really loved your husband if you would follow him into war." He mused.

 _What do I say? What do I say?_ "I suppose."

"Why did you save Captain Randall, and not your own husband?"

"Mine was already gone." I answered.

"But you remarried so soon after his death." He mused putting me into a tight corner. If I said no, I would have a strong reason to follow my husband into battle but I would also be suggesting that Brianna, who would very clearly have been conceived around 1745, was not Frank-or Johnathon's real child. Although this was only pretend, and the opinions of these people didn't really matter, I did not want to suggest my daughter was fathered by someone else. _Especially_ , after what Frank had said when I found out about his unfaithfulness.

"It was an arranged marriage between me and my first husband." I answered. "I felt obligated to love him, if you insist on trying to humiliate me before my family and my hosts."

"I apologize, madam, that wassna my intention." He said but took a deep, hard breath and had to settle him into a stance of, again, discomfort. "But I am sorry to hear that you were not satisfied with your

"What a pleasant ending to the story." Lady Dunsany smiled. "Let us take you to the stables where we can find you fine matches."

"Yes, indeed." Lord Dunsany smiled. "Back to work with you, Mackenzie."

"Aye, sir." The man nodded once at him and gave me one last pain filled glance before returning to his horse.

"Come, now, Brianna." Frank cooed, pulling Brie from the horse, despite her clear desire to remain.

"Follow behind me." Lord Dunsany ordered. "Are you coming with us, madam?" He asked when he noticed I had had fallen behind the small group.

"I am feeling a tad unwell after the sorrowful reminders of war. Too many, this morning." I wailed. They appeared sympathetic. "I will follow in only a moment."

They nodded leaving me to turn back to Mr. Mackenzie and his horse.

"Are you unwell, sir?" I inquired. He'd had his back to me but his body stilled and he hesitantly turned to me.

"Ah." He sighed, looking at the ground. "It continues."

"What continues?" I demanded a little more hostile than I had intended to sound. I wanted to fix whatever sickened the man so that we wouldn't need to fear his exposing us later.

"This nightmare." He answered glumly, looking at his feet and he lazily pet the horse. "Or ill form of hell, if that is what this is. I fell and died on the ride, and this is where God put me." He glanced at me sideways for a moment. Then raised his hand slightly as if somewhat reaching for me. I almost wanted to take his hand and check his pulse. "This must be hell. None of the nightmares have been so clear."

"You think you are dead." I realized. _My God_ , how was I meant to fix such an issue? How was it even caused?

"I am." He asked now attempting to touch my face. I almost let him but luckily instincts took over and I flinched away. This appeared to have an incredibly strong impact on him. His face nearly broke in that moment and his entire body started to tremble. "Aye, if this is my judgment, at least I can hear yer voice again. Even if I must also hear _his._ "

"Sir, you're not dead, nor are you dreaming." I snapped. Could he be prone to hallucinations? Perhaps he enjoyed opium, or plant based poisons or drugs. I made a mental note to keep Brianna away from this man.

"It is only in my dreams that I see you, Sassanach." My heart felt like it ripped into pieces in that moment, and this time I could not make myself move, not even when he reached his fingers towards me once more. _Sassanach._ In that voice... I felt suddenly numb but could not explain why. Perhaps this was _my_ dream. One more vivid than the rest. Or maybe I had fallen into another coma. That made more sense than time travel. "And it is only in my nightmares that you flinch from my touch." His hand was hot, hard, and sweaty against my face when he placed it there. It was almost uncomfortable but I could not move it past my shock.

He appeared a little surprised also. His fingers carefully started tracing the cheek they'd touched and his breathing became heavy. His eyes widened suddenly, his mouth formed a small 'o', his brows furrowed in concentration, and he took a step back, but never removed his hand.

"Sassa...?" He breathed before hitting the floor.

The fellow grooms and stable hands helped lead him out of the sun at my command and towards the shaded side of one of the barns. I supplied him with water as they sat him up, and soon he appeared to regain consciousness.

It was not long enough for Frank or the others to start looking for me, so I determined it was nothing more serious than heat stroke. But, it also meant that his heat stroke was severe enough to make him lose consciousness... that would explain why he thought I was a hallucination.

"He needs to remain out of the sun." I informed his colleagues.

"He needs to work." One of them argued, probably because I'm a woman.

"And if he keeps working in this condition he will die." I snapped. The idea was more unpleasant than I could explain.

The man started to awaken so I leaned away from him to examine him completely.

He was drowsy, obviously, and started looking for something the moment he was able. Then his sleepy eyes landed on mine and widened.

"You're real." He breathed.

"Yes." I said. "I am."

He began reaching forwards to touch my face again, I think, so I took his hand in mine to keep the interaction more innocent. He let out a small gasp when he took my hand and began investigating it as if it were a piece of treasure.

"Claire." He breathed and a tear appeared to leave his eye.

"Mr. Mackenzie." I addressed him as seriously as I could and it appeared to work. He looked up at my eyes, his filled with desperation, as his fingers tightened over mine. "I do hope you are feeling better now." He just stared at me curiously. "I would suggest you drank more water often to avoid episodes such as these."

"Claire, how?" He whispered.

"They got you water from that bucket. I would assume you could take water from it also." I pointed in the general direction in which I had see them take the bucket.

"You're here." He breathed.

"I think he should be taken to bed." I told one of the men helping and this time he didn't argue as he tried to help lift Mr. Mackenzie from the wall. I pulled my hand from his and felt myself suddenly missing to warmth. I had not lain with Frank since I found out about his affairs. I did not want this man, I wanted the affection I was starving of. The connection. I needed to remind myself of that.

"Wait!" He ordered. "I didna need to go to bed, Claire-"

He looked like he was about to step towards me so I took two large steps backwards. That stopped him in his place. He tried to make sense of the movement, I could see that on his face. He continued to watch me as if I were a dangerous animal that could rip him to pieces at any moment.

"I am glad that you are awake once more, Mr. Mackenzie." I smiled once but it was not the largest smile I could have accomplished. "My husband and daughter are expecting me now. Please, drink water and get some rest."

Something about him-his face, his voice, his touch... his presence, pounded at my mind like a drum. But the beats were loud and painful and I had no way to get around them. And then, like a coward afraid to face whatever thoughts or memories were trying to enter my head, I ran back into the barn after Frank and the Dunsany's.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I will hopefully have another update as quickly as this one ! :)**


	8. Unfamiliar Faces

**Chapter 8**

 _ **Unfamiliar Faces**_

 _ **.**_

Brianna wanted nothing more than to return to the stable the moment we left so that she could pick out a horse and begin riding lessons. Frank had placed her in some lessons when she was younger, but we'd had to stop due to our busy schedules.

Fearing for myself and my family, and the threat I felt Mr. Mackenzie could bring to us if I did not discover his exact history with Captain Randall before he had another moment to interrogate us or speak to Lord Dunsany, I had prolonged our horse choosing by claiming I was too tired from the journey to make any sort of decision on horses. But I could only delay for so long, and I found myself panicked over what that man might say or know.

What was the penalty for faking your identity during these times? It was probably a lot worse when you faked the identity of a British officer. What would happen to Brianna if we couldn't get home? Or if we were arrested. For the first time since we had come to the 18th century, I felt fear that everything might not be as easy as we'd planned.

"Mackenzie, our groom whom you were momentarily introduced to, was unwell today." Lady Dunsany explained at dinner. I think she wanted to remind us that it wasn't their regular practice to allow a groom to question their guests. Honestly, I would not have minded if it had not risked our exposure. It would be much more difficult to get home if we were in prison. "Some of the servants mentioned as much."

"He was acting strange on our ride." Geneva agreed suddenly. A felt a small pang of annoyance at her excitement when it came to bragging about spending time with the man. I could tell from the flushed nervousness when he was discussed that she probably found him attractive. But that relationship would have been completely inappropriate. Not only was she his bosses daughter, but she must have been half his age. He was no younger than thirty-five, whereas she was barely 17. I found myself suddenly deciding that if he was willing to attach himself to a girl so young, then his opinion didn't even matter to me... because if he told on us, we would tell on him.

Still, the idea bothered me more than it should, and I determined it was because I wasn't sure if I was allowing a man to prey on a younger girl and keeping it from her parents notice. I had a daughter. I wouldn't want her treated in such a way. And how could I stay in the home of my hosts while secretly allowing their daughter to be wooed by some Scottish scoundrel? I could understand that men did often marry such young girls in this century, but surely her parents would not be pleased with her daughters fascination with a groom.

"Are you very familiar with Mr. Mackenzie?" I inquired despite my own desire to remain separated from the strange man.

She looked at me with a stare of sudden surprise as if the answer had not been one she'd ever expected to be asked, nor was it one she appeared to want to answer. I felt a gut-wrenching twist to my stomach and thought I might be sick. I would not have admitted, even to myself, that I feared the answer she may have. "Not very well." She either admitted or lied. "But I do prefer his company to the others. Unlike the rest of his kind, he appears to have been raised with manners."

I think she meant _kind_ as in poorer people. Or maybe she meant Scottish, but he we'd not been introduced to anymore Scots while here.

"He is very good with the horses." Isobel smiled. _Oh Lord, not her too._.. No. Not her. She admired him, I thought, or maybe appreciated him, but did not seem to dote on him the same way her sister did.

"Yes, we are very lucky to have him in our services." Lord Dunsany praised. "Tomorrow, perhaps if Mackenzie thinks you will be alright, he can take you on a ride around the territory."

"That would be lovely." Frank thanked him while Brie watched gaping with a large smile. Frank then looked at me as if expecting me to share in his excitement but it was difficult. I had a terrible feeling about the red haired man. He was dangerous, I could sense it. And I knew, on an almost cellular level that if we got too close to him, or let him get too close to us, we would never make it home.

* * *

"What is it, Claire?" Frank wondered. I had _finally_ dressed and was staring out our chamber window towards the large field on which Brianna would receive riding lessons today. I had not spoken much about it the night before, and simply smiled when Brianna or Frank spoke of their excitement and readiness.

But I had been completely unable to sleep. I could not get the man out of my head. His face, in many strange settings, raced through my imagination and left me craving more. But the thoughts became inappropriate and left me restless. Unwelcome dreams of him filled the few moments I had of sleep, waking me again but making me feel almost completely isolated from Frank.

Obviously, I could not tell him what was going on. And I already feared that Frank and I were treading waters we may not be able to overcome. When I finally got my memories back, if ever, how would I respond to everything? How could I cope?

I shook my head and bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from breaking into a fit of tears at the fear that had been bothering me ever since I found out about Frank and my apparent secret arrangement.

"It's nothing." I said, happy my voice didn't betray me.

"I've seen that look before." He reminded. "It has never been nothing."

"I don't think we should go for a ride today." I explained. "Or any day."

"Oh." He blinked. "Why ever not? Brianna would be so disappointed."

 _Ugh_ , that was the problem, wasn't it? If not for her excitement, we could hide from the man who apparently knew Johnathon Randall well enough around his time of death to be truly surprised that the man had lived. And he _had_ looked surprised. His face when he'd seen Frank was one of pure torment and fear, as if he were seeing a ghost.

"You're right." I surrendered. "Should we be going?"

Brianna was jumping when we reached the small boxed in field used by the Dunsany's as a riding ring. The red haired barbarian was standing by a pony while he spoke to a man in dirty, ragged clothing-another employee.

"Ah." The ragged man smiled as we approached. "There you are, Captain Randall."

Mr. Mackenzie made a face as we appeared as if seeing us was truly something unpleasant. No... seeing Frank was something unpleasant, oh dear the gut wrenching torment I'd felt all morning had returned.

"Is that the horse I get to ride?" Brianna wondered excitedly.

"I believe it is." Frank smiled, picking her up and leading her towards the red haired man and the horse. I waited by back, not wanting to get any closer, though I couldn't decide why.

While they settled Brianna into her saddle, Mr. Mackenzie gave me a sideways glance as if willing me to come closer... or challenging me to. I felt the air get stuck in my lungs and felt the panic of our situation become heavier and heavier. Felt it over the pain and fear of the accident I couldn't remember and the loss of the years and my own identity. If I were any weaker I would fall to the floor in a crumbling mess of tears. But I somehow stayed strong. I locked my jaw and set my feet into the ground and begged myself to breathe.

I realized I had lost focus when Frank touched my arm so suddenly but so gently. I gaped at him in shock for a moment before forcing a deep, painful breath and turning back to Brie who was now in the hands of a man who could very possibly hate us.

The horse began to walk very slowly in a circle while Mackenzie held it at the center of the circle by a lead rope.

Frank and I stood watching, while servants brought us refreshments, as she walked and soon started to even trot a few steps.

The sun had risen quite a bit while the lesson continued. And a few officers visiting from the country had joined to watch, speaking only with Frank, not that I wanted to fake conversation with long since dead men. I had nothing in common with these people, other than a desire to survive.

To avoid feeling anymore ignored by the conversation beside me, I began mindlessly wondering onto the field and carefully towards Mr. Mackenzie, avoiding the path of the horse as I did this.

"She seems to be doing very well." I mused, smiling up towards my daughter.

"Aye, she is." Mr. Mackenzie said with a pinch of pride. He glanced back at me and I thought his face almost pinched with sorrow. It warmed my heart a little, though, that he found so much pride and joy in his job. "Perhaps you would also like a lesson, Madam _Randall_."

There was something strange about the way he said my name, but I could not explain it.

"I know how to ride." I informed him softly.

"Could you use a reminder, maybe?" He wondered.

The offer was tempting but instead I replied, "I have forgotten many things, Mr. Mackenzie, but not how to ride."

"Have you then?" He wondered giving me a curious sideways glance after taking a short stare at Frank. "Forgotten many things, that is?"

"I have." I acknowledged. I am not sure why. Or if something had possessed me into telling him. Maybe I just wanted to tell someone outside of my family and colleagues back in the 1950's, but I decided to continue as if I owed this stranger an explanation. "There was an incident a few months ago. I was hurt for a small while and I suppose I hit my head-or maybe it was just too traumatic. And I got amnesia."

He examined me shortly with a face full of concentration. He had been continuing to focus on Brianna's riding while I spoke, and after, but for now he appeared more concerned with my apparent injury. "Is that so?" But after determining I was no longer hurt, he added, "I dinna ken what an amnesia is, but I'll take yer word that it isna good."

I smiled a little, feeling almost relaxed now that I had told another person... Especially since that person seemed to be understanding about it, rather than yelling _witch_ and racing us off the property. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." I stated. "Amnesia is a word from where I come from meaning you have lost a good deal of your memories."

His head turned back to me now, and he watched me carefully.

"It is true." I interpreted his focused stare as disbelief.

"Claire!" I turned to Franks voice the moment he called for me.

"I will return in a moment." I vowed to Mr. Mackenzie and walked back to Frank.

"Darling," Frank greeted me, placing a hand on my lower back so he could guide me closer to him. "Lord Dunsany would like for me to meet a few of his other acquaintances."

"Must you go now?" I wondered. Brianna would be so disappointed if we were unable to on a family ride.

"I must." He looked sympathetic, at least. "Some of these acquaintances may lead to another posting in Scotland. Which we need to get home."

I sighed because although it would disappoint Brianna, I wanted to get home as soon as possible. Especially since we were pretending to be people we were not-or Frank was, at least.

"I suppose you can join us tomorrow." I sighed.

A small smile pressed on his lips. "And I will." He took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead softly.

I felt a small tug at my stomach as he did this. Although I enjoyed the intimacy, I think I felt guilty for it. Guilty for betraying myself and allowing myself to continue loving him after everything else that had happened. Or not happened... or that I forgot, or whatever.

I smiled at him as a farewell before returning to my daughter and her teacher. She'd stopped riding as he rearranged the reins in her fingers. He appeared to be ignoring my approach because he was fighting his head from turning to acknowledge my return.

"Mama!" She cheered with a smile. "Mr. Mackenzie says I can try riding on my own now!"

"I dinna say that, lassie." Mr. Mackenzie sounded almost amused but remained stern. "I said you could try riding on a path rather than in a circle."

"Can we go for a ride now?!" She wondered. "Where's daddy going?"

"He has some business with Lord Dunsany." I answered. "But he promised to join us tomorrow." I regretted the words the moment I said them because although I know he wanted it to be a promise, he could very well be pulled away again. She looked extremely disappointed by this, none-the-less.

"Don't fesh yourself, lass." Mr. Mackenzie said in a hard, almost tense voice. "You will have more opportunities, let him do his business."

I am not sure whether I was annoyed or impressed by the fact that his saying this seemed to calm her irritation immediately. A smile appeared on her lips as she nodded once at him before turning back to me. "Can we go for a ride now?"

"If it is alright with Mr. Mackenzie." I decided glancing at the man who still avoided looking at me.

"Aye." He said patting the horses neck. "I will find you a good, safe animal and we will be off."

"We?" I didn't mean to sound as surprised as I did.

"Aye." He said glancing at me with hard, calculating eyes. "I will chaperone your ride."

"I thank you, Mr. Mackenzie, but we do not need a chaperone." I stated, staring daringly into his eyes.

"You do if ye plan to be taking my horses out of the stable." He replied, his eyes meeting my challenge and not surrendering.

"I assure you, Mr. Mackenzie," He seemed to flinch when I said his name. "I am a very competent rider."

"Competent or no," He said, "I willna let you go."

"I dare say you do not have a choice in the matter of where I go or don't go." I snapped.

His eyes widened a little, and for a moment, I feared what he might say or do. _Geneva, Geneva, Geneva,_ I reminded myself bitterly.

He lifted his chest then and squared himself on his feet. "Will you allow your daughter to be hurt then?" He wondered. "Or risk it? You might feel confident in your own riding, but have you much experience controlling another horse whose rider has lost control?"

I felt my stomach drop to the floor, and hesitated.

He used this moment of hesitation to continue. "I canna let you go unchaperoned for you might hurt yourselves or the horses, or find yourself lost."

"Come on, mama!" Brianna begged now. "Mr. Mackenzie is very nice! I don't mind if he comes with us."

I glared at him- -to his amusement, I think. "Yes, I am sure he is a very _nice_ man."

So, I allowed Mr. Mackenzie, the bastard, to lead me into the stable and choose a horse while Brianna waited with a couple grooms who helped her brush her pony. She was within eyesight and seemed to be having fun.

"This one looks nice." I noted reaching to pet a black horse.

"If by nice ye mean wildly unpredictable, then yes." He mused walking slowly behind me.

"Alright, how about this one?" I asked about the one in the paddock over.

"She is a nice lass, but a bit of a trickster." He grinned. The small smile seemed almost foreign to his face. "You'd need to be sure to watch your surroundings."

"Maybe not, then." I muttered because I wanted to enjoy a peaceful ride and focus on Brie rather than the road, "Which would you recommend, then?" I caved.

He appeared amused and led me to a small off-beige horse with a small star on her forehead.

"He is a sweet boy." He answered.

"I suppose he will do, then." I decided impatiently.

"Do you not remember, then?" He asked suddenly.

"Remember what?" I wondered turning back to face him. His eyes were filled with sorrow and longing, and his face appeared almost agonized. My instincts told me to reach forward and comfort him, but reality kept me in check.

He hesitated to answer, then asked, "How much do you remember? Due to your... _amnesia_?"

"Oh." I laughed a little for no apparent reason. I leaned against one of the paddock walls and looked down, feeling insecure but also relieved to finally tell someone who wouldn't be personally affected by anything I had to say. I meant to censor myself, but I think I did a poor job at it. "Not much in the past few years. The last thing I remember is coming to Scotland with my husband in 45. Then I woke up in a hospital. To be honest, I don't even remember having a child. Brianna... I love her but I don't really know very much about her other than what Fra-Johnathon tells me."

"Frank." He said the name with concentration.

"What?" I asked.

"You called him Frank." He noted carefully as if searching for something in the statement.

"I did no such thing." I argued.

He surrendered after that, but continued to ask, "What is it like to forget so much?"

"Scary." I answered honestly. "And confusing."

"Has your husband been helpful with remembering things?"

"Yes, I do believe he has been." I smiled fondly at first but felt my face fall.

"What is it?" He wondered.

I hesitated, and I haven't the slightest idea why, but I replied, "There are a few things that have happened that make me feel like... what if my memories don't return? How can I be a complete person not understanding who I am now or how I got to this place in my life? My God, I don't even know my daughters date of birth!"

I put my face in my hands as I tried desperately to conceal the fear I'd been concealing for weeks. As I did this, I felt him shift beside me and was almost sure I could feel his hand hovering over my back, as if he intended to comfort me but was not sure that he should.

My impulses decided for us. Without much thought, or my own approval, I turned my body into his and let chills of comfort and safety wrap around me when he pulled me into his arms.

I think he let out a small gasp, probably due to the un-ladylikeness. But his hands tightened and he mumbled something in another language-I suppose it may have been Gaelic-and despite my not understanding the language, I felt strangely comforted. He held me tighter for a moment and tensed, as if he feared being any closer to me. I would have pulled away to make him more comfortable, but I guess I was too selfish and upset to care.

I continued to let him hold me until we were interrupted by the excited cry, "Mama!"

I straightened up and turned to the sound of my daughter as she entered the small space. "Yes, darling." I asked.

"Are we going soon?" She wondered.

"Yes darling." I blinked, turning quickly towards the animal Mackenzie had recommended only a moment ago.

Mr. Mackenzie and I spoke nothing of the moment as I helped in prepare my horse. He appeared to be deeply lost in thought, as I imagine someone would be at learning it was possible for another person to lose all of their memories.

The ride was silent when we began, other than Mr. Mackenzie demanding Brianna take certain precautions and riding in certain ways. He rode beside her at first, holding her horses bridle and barking instructions too fast for anyone to properly remember and follow.

I found his dedication to seeing her safe a little endearing. I tried, but failed, to suppress the smile I wore at seeing how naturally these two appeared to work together. They shared a similar hair colour also, so despite my desires I couldn't help but picture this as a beautiful father-daughter moment. It was easy to get lost in this moment until I remembered that the little red haired girl was my child and not his.

Once he believed she had a sufficient amount of control, he allowed her to venture a few steps in front of us and came to ride next to me.

"Thank you." I told him with a smile.

"She is a braw lass." He praised. "Tough and stubborn."

"She is a darling." I mused. "Like her father." But I wasn't sure how truly I believed that.

"Tell me of your husband, Claire." He insisted. "He doesna seem as he was when I once knew him."

"Oh?" I asked but this was a question I had been fearing. "How so?"

"He is much more pleasant now." He almost appeared unhappy about this.

"Is that so." I wondered cynically. "You've hardly spoken to him."

"Aye but the old Jack Randall wouldna have let me evade him so easily." He mused almost smirking. "He liked to bugger me quite a bit." He sat back then, and added, "I'm sure it was the love of a good woman that has changed him." He didn't sound as if he truly believed this.

"Have you been married, Mr. Mackenzie?" I wondered to take the conversation off of Frank and I.

"I have." He answered with a change to his voice I had not expected. I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach and felt an unmatchable pain of envy. The two words held so much weight and love that I almost felt invasive to ask anymore. I did not envy the woman, of course. I envied her ability to keep her husbands affections, as I always thought I had with Frank. It two words I knew suddenly how I wished Frank spoke about me with other people. I had never feared he might not truly love me, but in two words this man had convinced me he loved his partner, whereas when mine spoke to women it was with the intention of betraying our vows. "She... left me though."

"Oh." I blinked in surprise and felt a sudden heartbreak for the poor man. "Why did she do that, if the question is not too forward?"

He was quiet for a moment, and thoughtful. Then he gave me a cold glare that froze me to the bone. "Another man." The hate in his voice was clear and I knew suddenly that this man and I had more of a connection than I could have thought. Like with Frank, his man had been betrayed by the woman he loved more than anything. But he had let her go, or she had left him. And the result of that was clearly negative.

Although we had come to the past, I felt like I was seeing the future. _My_ future if Frank left me for one of his... mistresses. Or if I left him. Sure, I believed I was strong enough, and independent enough to survive without him. But I would be hurt. My heart would be damaged. I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than Frank. Of course, Mackenzie could also have been unaware until his wife had left him, making the shock and the heartbreak even more difficult. Still, I feared suddenly more than ever that my not remembering who I was could lead to my destroying everything I will be.

"She left me for him." He answered in an angry tone. "Took with her my child, too. I thought I could never see her again, it... I thought that made it easier but that was untrue. So there are no good excuses I can think of for why she never came back to me. Still..." He shook his head and looked down. "Still, I wish her to be happy. Even if I want to... punish her for leaving me, and for... forgetting about me while she runs away with her new husband."

"I'm very sorry." I told him honestly.

"It is alright." He breathed, then smiled a little but there was no happiness in his face. "I've been able to meet my child, a daughter." He smiled a little more pleasant now and shook his head once. "And... if she is happy, that is all I then desire."

"You are a very good man." I noted because I could not imagine, even if I had forgotten so many pieces of her life, losing Brianna to Frank and being so courteous about it.

"At least I have that, then." He grinned and I felt myself smile to, but my smile hid the painful realization that this conversation was bringing me to. I might be more trapped than I'd thought.

"Why haven't you also remarried?" I wondered.

"I am still married." He determined. "She will always be the only one for me."

I felt a sudden flutter in my heart and a reddening in my face and realized quickly that I was feeling envy. Frank, who I'd been married to for years, who I'd had a child with, could not stay loyal to me. He hadn't been loyal to me. But this man was willing to stay loyal to a woman who'd left him after only a few years of marriage. I felt a pang of jealousy wishing I could have a husband so strongly devoted to me. I wished I could have met this woman who'd left him, so I could inform her of the horrid mistake she'd made, and use many more choice words to inform her of my opinion of her.

"But she left you." I reminded. "Don't you deserve to move on?"

"I dinna care what I deserve." He snapped. "I want her and that willna change."

"You are too stubborn to let it." I noted.

He smirked but did not look at me. "Aye, I suppose that may be so."

"Do you at least see your daughter often?" I wondered.

"I have only met her once." He answered stiffly. "And I don't think she knows she's mine."

"That is cruel of her mother." I thought. Even if I left Frank, I would never take his right to see Brianna. Nor would I allow him to take away my right to see her.

"I dinna think her new husband would be too comfortable with it, anyways." He thought. "Though if I ever learn he has done anything to hurt them in anyway, he will learn discomforts he's never dreamed possible."

"Do you miss her a lot?" I wondered.

"Aye." His voice sounded tight. "Everyday. Each day more than the last. But at least I get to see her. Even if it is with another." He looked at me then, his eyes carrying a pleading desperation I couldn't understand. "I willna lie to ye, Sassanach. It is hard for me not to take her each time I see her, and remind her that she is _mine_."

I had to swallow, though I had nothing in my throat. What did a person say to that? I couldn't be genuinely curious, could I?

"Why haven't you?" I wondered in a painfully hesitant voice.

"I canna imagine she'd be too happy with me." He mused, almost appearing amused now. "And a little anger, I can do. But she is a wee devil when she is angry and I would like to keep my manhood attached to me."

I laughed a little at this. "I am sure you would. She is a strong woman, then?"

"Aye, but I love her still." He sighed. "And I dinna want to upset the lass by disturbing her happy family."

"Perhaps her family is not as happy as it seems." I suggested, simply because I could understand the anger of knowing the person you loved most in the world would rather be with someone else.

"I suppose that may be the way of it." He mused, watching me carefully as if he were waiting for me to do or say something. "Maybe a part of me is cruel enough to hope it is, so that I may justify to myself, to her, and to God why I would take her away from it. But I want her to be happy. And my child. And if that means leaving them to be cared for by another man... I suppose I am to make that sacrifice."

"That is very kind of you." I praised.

"Isna kind of me, Sassanach." He spat the words, but I still liked them. I enjoyed when he called me Sassanach. It was comfortable. "There is nothing harder I've ever had to do. I thought nothing could be harder than letting her go, but seeing her with another man... Aye, I dinna know how I can bare it."

"I am very sorry." I told him honestly. "Your wife was very lucky, though. To have a man as dedicated as you. Any woman would dream of that."

"Do you not feel your husband is dedicated to you?" He wondered curiously, raising an eyebrow almost as if in judgment. I didn't feel like being judged by him today.

"I haven't the slightest idea." I decided.

"Well, he should be." He mused. "As any honourable man should be. Unless, I suppose..."

"Unless what?" I demanded feeling suddenly defensive. How _dare_ he suggest there was a time a man should not be dedicated to his wife, or her in return? Would he be so vulgar to suggest that Frank could be unfaithful simply because I did not please him nightly? Which I had been more than willing to do up until I learned of him and his whores.

"I suppose it is Captain Jack Randall we are speaking of." He said the name with an extra note of bitterness, but his face appeared sickly amused. "He could no be expected to stay dedicated to his right hand, let alone a proper lass."

I almost choked out a laugh from the unexpected comment. So, maybe Alex Mackenzie had known Johnathon Randall, but apparently they had not been too close.

"Were you two close when you knew each other?" I wondered. "You and Jack Randall?"

"Closer than I ever would have liked to be, yes." He mused. "And much more connected than I ever want to be with another man again. For a while, it seemed that every time I turned around he was standing there, haunting me."

"I am sorry, then." I said realizing that our reappearance likely upset him for this very same reason. He and Johnathon Randall had not been friends, and Mackenzie had finally thought Randall was dead. But here he was again to haunt him. I felt a sudden pity for him, and wasn't sure why. Probably, I decided, because I felt our troubled marriages offered us common ground.

"Dinna fesh much, Sassanach." He mused. "I do enjoy your company enough."

I am not sure if I blushed or felt annoyed by this comment, but I think my heart stopped for a moment. He didn't want to expose us, then, maybe. He just wanted to stay away from Frank, I hoped.

"But I do wonder how he survived." He continued. My heart stopped again. I couldn't tell him anything more that might make him feel more comfortable, because I couldn't risk it. I could be wrong, and he could want to destroy my family out of hatred of Jack Randall. Or love of the real one. "Is he a good husband to you?"

"Oh, yes." I smiled at first, thinking of the Frank I knew before the amnesia. That Frank was gone, though. And I was left with a man I couldn't honestly say I knew.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." I shook my head.

"Is he not a good man, then?" There was a skeptical tone to his voice that I couldn't fully translate.

"Maybe we should keep up with Brianna." I mused, pushing my horse forward so that I was riding by her side, and hopefully away from the conversion.

* * *

 **Thank you for waiting! I've just been SO busy lately! I hope you enjoyed!**


	9. James Fraser

**Chapter 9**

 _ **James Fraser**_

 _ **.**_

Brianna rode between my horse and Mackenzie's horse while she spoke animatedly to Mr. Mackenzie.

"How are you in your studies, lass?" He wondered with a smile that almost convinced me he was truly curious. As if the answer would somehow be special or exciting, but I guess it would be to a... man of lesser means in the 1700's discussing the schooling of a young girl.

"I'm one of the smartest kids in my class!" She bragged proudly.

My breath was taken away by the wide toothed smile that stretched across his face.

"Brianna is also a very talented artist." I included. This seemed to intrigue Mackenzie.

"Is that so, Sassanach?" He wondered with the same excited, beaming smile. He turned his attention back to Brie and nudged her softly in the arm. "What kind of art do you fancy, lassie?"

"I'm a good drawer." She answered proudly.

"Aye, I'm sure you are." He acknowledged swiftly. "You know, my sister, and my mother, they were both fine artists."

"Really?"

"Aye, they were." He nodded with a smile still lingering on his lips.

"Do you have children, Mr. Mackenzie?" Brie wondered.

"I do." He smiled, his eyes looking almost longingly on Brianna.

"Can I meet them?" She wondered.

He laughed at that with an obvious note of awkwardness, and I felt almost guilty so I interrupted, "What part of Scotland are you from?"

He appeared slightly surprised by the question, then a little relieved. "A place called Lallybroch."

"Is it nice there?" Brie wondered.

"Quite nice, lass." He seemed like he might say more but he stopped himself.

This line of questioning continued for a while. It only stopped after we returned to the stable where Dunsany and Frank were waiting.

"How was your ride?" Dunsany wondered cheerfully.

"It was excellent." I answered, smiling at Frank who was too busy giving Mackenzie and Brie strange stares of concentration and curiosity. "Frank? Are you alright?"

I dismounted and approached him carefully. He didn't look away from Mackenzie until I touched his arm lightly.

"What was that, dear?" He asked in the same way he did when he was focused on his studies and was forced to split his focus for the moment.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, o-of course."

"Are you sure?"

"I am living a dream come true. Plus, I have with me the two most important people in my life." He kissed my cheek but his eyes turned back to the red haired man who had gently pulled Brianna from her horse and was untacking the horses. "Come, my darling. They invited us to tea in one of the great rooms."

He placed a hand lightly on my back, called Brie, and began leading us back to the house.

* * *

Our time at tea brought in another revelation.

"Our passage has been booked." Frank informed a English minister visiting from London. "We leave in about two days."

"I am sure the Dunsany's will be sorry to see you go." The minister thought.

"They have been excellent guests." Dunsany nodded. "But I am sure they will visit often."

Frank offered a happy but unhopeful smile. "Yes, I am sure we will."

A servant entered then, and spoke quietly to Dunsany.

"Excellent!" Dunsany cheered. "I have a surprise for you, Captain Randall. Please bring him in."

I turned my head with all the others in the room after Dunsany put the attention on the entrance.

I felt as though I could feel every particle in the room. Every slight change of temperature, every texture around me...

Mackenzie entered the room looking almost hesitant. He glanced around until his eyes fell on me and livened moderately. He lifted his head, offered me a slight nod, before returning his stare to Lord Dunsany.

Lady Dunsany and her friends appeared intrigued but otherwise indifferent to his arrival while Isobel was friendly and Geneva looked like her spirits had been perked by his arrival.

"Mackenzie." Dunsany welcomed. "I was thinking you might join us."

This clearly surprised Mackenzie who shuffled from one foot to another and glanced once more uncomfortably around the room.

Dunsany must have understood his discomfort because he added, "I assumed, since you and Captain Johnathon Randall were once close, you might want to visit before he and his family leave."

"Leave." The word sounded strained and I felt a pang of curiosity of the meaning behind the struggle to comprehend our leaving as anything more than a success.

"Lord Grey is quite fond of Mackenzie, also." Lady Dunsany announced to the room. "They spend many hours together on all his visits."

"Sit!" Dunsany ordered. "Join us!"

Mackenzie followed this order and took a careful seat across from Frank. A servant offered him a small glass of liquor, which he shot back instantly. Frank also appeared completely uncomfortable, but I imagined it was for a much different reason.

The room was silent then, as if it were made to pause until one of the men made a move towards the other. Clearly, neither wanted to, but it was Frank who bravely took the first step.

"I am sorry to say it has been a while." Frank appeared confident in his words, as a man who'd once worked for the British Intelligence during World War II probably should. Even in a potentially compromising position. "I know that my reappearance after my-er-death must be somewhat of a surprise also."

"Oh, aye, I have had many surprises recently." Mackenzie responded over the rim of his glass. "A very many."

"You will have to forgive my pardon." Frank continued, "If I don't have the freshest memory of our relationship."

"It t'is no bother of mine, Randall." Mackenzie almost said it as if it were a dirty word. A slanderous, pornographic word never to be used in decent society. I think Frank noted this, too, but he regained his composure almost instantly. The rest of the room seemed to be brought back into existence now that the pair spoke. "T'is not me you would be so likely to remember as some others."

"Oh?" Frank asked.

"Aye. I am sure you would be much better acquainted with... or that may be, you may have a better memory of a man named James Fraser." Mackenzie's cat-like smile grew slightly as the name replayed in Franks head. Franks response to this was instant, undeniable, and dramatic. There was no pretending that the name didn't mean something to him. Personally, I liked it. It had a nice ring to it. _James Fraser_. It felt calm. Safe, almost. "Aye, you two were much better acquainted than you and I."

"You..." Frank breathed. I instantly wanted to know what this name meant to Frank. Possibly a discovery made by Frank during the time I couldn't remember. Maybe this Mackenzie, and James Fraser had shared a connection and a history to Jack Randall.

"Do you remember Fraser's wife at all, Randall?" Mackenzie continued, looking pleasantly amused with himself, but also focused like a cat playing with an injured bird. "I do remember you two did not always get along. She was a healer, no?"

Frank sputtered out an answer, "I... I suppose you must be right." He struggled intensely to maintain his unhinged expression. I felt a shuttering fear at the pained expression that crossed his face as he carefully glanced at me. Could this man know Frank wasn't the real John Randall? How would he have figured it out? "Is James Fraser... nearby?"

"Unfortunately, no." Mackenzie decided, leaning back slightly in his chair while offering me a curious sideways glance. "He has not been seen in sometime."

"Mackenzie sure seems much more lively with you around, Captain." Dunsany commented, reminding us that we had company.

"How well were you and M-Mr. Fraser... did you visit often?" Frank wondered, trying to maintain the conversation.

"Oh, aye." Mackenzie nodded. "Before the war. I was quite fond of that wife of his. She patched me up more times than I could count. But she also had quite the temper, don't you remember?"

He glanced at us both as he asked, and Frank responded by taking my hand harder than necessary.

"I believe I do." Frank responded. When Frank spoke next, though, he spoke through a locked jaw. "But as I also seem to recall, he had a tendency to take things that didn't belong to him."

I suddenly feared that Frank was growing to confident in his knowledge of history. Surely, he wouldn't truly pretend to know this man, and their third friend.

"I seem to recall you taking a lot more from me than he ever took from you." Mackenzie responded harshly.

"How is it you work so well with horses?" I wondered, hoping to break the tension between the two.

Mackenzie's eyes were hard and unhappy when they met mine, but slowly melted as he spoke, despite an obvious attempt to remain angry.

"I grew up on a farm." He answered. "And I have many years of experience."

"Could you please tell me more about that?"

The rest of the tea was tense, and I felt the pressure both in my hand which Frank continued to squeeze as if loosening his grip would result in my vanishing into an oblivion, and I felt it in the painfully hesitant conversation being forcefully created by Mackenzie and Frank. I was pleased to return to our chambers later that night because it meant I could interrogate Franks apparent loathing of the man James Fraser.

Before I could speak, though, Frank turned and said, "I do not want you to spend anymore time with Alexander Mackenzie."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked in surprise.

"Alexander Mackenzie. I cannot believe he is a good man with our family's benefits in mind."

"Well, I am very sure he doesn't care what benefits our family." I replied breathlessly. "But he is an excellent coach for Brianna and a fine person to talk to."

"Do... Do you remember the name James Fraser?" He was somehow both angry and hopeful at the same time.

"Yes." I answered. I had only heard it thirty minutes before.

"You do." Frank breathed looking suddenly almost defeated.

"Of course." I snapped. "Mackenzie mentioned him less than an hour ago. I actually meant to ask you about that."

"Well you have no need to ask." Frank spat. "He was a conman, a bandit. He stole from the desperate, and when they had nothing more to lose, he would steal their wives and their virtues."

"That..." I meant to say sounded ridiculous considering he'd apparently been a friend of Black Jack Randall, but then I remembered that Randall had been considered a bit of a villain the same. This didn't transfer to Mackenzie, though. Mackenzie didn't even like Randall. "Well, it has nothing to do with Mackenzie."

"Still, I do not want my wife or child to be exposed to such a man." Frank determined. "We leave soon anyways."

"Yes, and about that, when exactly did you plan on telling me that?"

"I didn't think it made much of a difference when I told you."

"It wouldn't make a difference!?"

As one might imagine, this argument went on for a while. We tried to remain quiet so we didn't wake Bree, but did not stop until the candles were out. He slept that night on the couch in our private sitting area while I took the bed.

* * *

I didn't have the best sleep that night. Perhaps it was due to the fight I'd had with Frank the night before, or the pornographic dreams that seduced me with guilt.

I continued to dream I was in bed with Mackenzie, only the few times I spoke I called him James Fraser, or sometimes just James or Jamie, then I would wake up sweating, feeling guilty because, if I were being honest, I don't think I wanted them to stop. One of the dreams, though, had him stealing me away from Frank in the middle of the day, and the worst part was how willingly I went with him. I woke up after that dream and found I couldn't sleep again. So I lay in the dark watching my ceiling and quietly debating my options.

Perhaps Frank was correct. I should stay away from Mackenzie, even if only to ward away and deny the dreams. We would not be here much longer anyways. I could easily avoid him if I decided to remain inside.

Breakfast with Lady Dunsany, Isobel, and Brianna was very pleasant. Until Geneva arrived. She spoke animatedly to her sister and my daughter about a boy she was infatuated with. She never used a name, and told us all it was a surprise, but her mother would occasionally bring her back to earth with the reminder that she was to marry another.

"I must go then." Geneva sighed dramatically as she rose from the table. Her mother had already left to greet a few guests. "I have a lesson waiting for me."

"With Mackenzie?" Isobel wondered, looking slightly concerned.

"Who else?" The way Gevena said this made my stomach turn uneasily. "Perhaps today is the day."

I could tell from the conflicted worry in Isobels face that whatever day today was, it was not a very good one for Mackenzie.

"Does she intend to...?" I asked Isobel.

She did not speak but she offered me a small, mournful nod.

"Do you mind watching Bree today?" I asked Isobel a few moments after Geneva disappeared into the manor.

"Oh.. of course." She was surely about to ask more, but I had already stood and was racing down the back patio stairs towards the stables.

The ground was softer than usually, perhaps due to rain during the night. But I didn't let this slow me. Gevena was already likely there, and Mackenzie would need a witness after dealing with her.

After having learned more about Mr. Mackenzie and his history, I found it difficult to believe he was perusing Geneva, or her sister. It must have been nothing more than a young girls unrequited infatuation. And it was one that could get an innocent man in a lot of trouble. I simply couldn't allow her to put him through anymore than he'd already suffered.

I burst through the barn doors calling, "Mackenzie!"

He was alone brushing a horse. Both were clearly startled by my sudden appearance and outburst.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Mackenzie wondered, then calmed himself and asked, "Are you alright, Madam Fras- Madam Randall?"

"I uh-um... No, thank you." I blinked trying to catch my breath.

"Are you sure?" He wondered, forgetting his task for the moment so he could direct his attention towards me. "You seem a bit..."

"I am alright." I assured him, "Is Geneva here?"

His face altered to one of irritation and almost repulsion, but it was not directed towards myself.

"Ech, thank goodness but no." He shook his head. I let out a relieved laugh but I could not be sure if it was due to my pointless panicking and exertion, or my relief at having been correct in my most recent assumption that he did not reciprocate the young girls affections. Brianna had grown very fond of Mr. Mackenzie and I could not be a proper mother if I allowed her to spend her time with a predator of young women. "Were you looking for the lass?"

"No, I wasn't, I just..." I sucked in a deep breath and thanked my lucky stars that it was only us... because I wasn't sure how to explain my sudden intrusion to Geneva... "She said she was on her way."

"I should thank you for the warning." He said, grabbing his coat from one of the paddock doors where it lazily hang. Then he glanced at me wiry and asked, "Will you come with me, then?"

"Come with you?" I wasn't sure why I was so surprised or so conflicted by the possibilities that question offered.

"Aye." He nodded with a smirk itching on his lips. His eyes were pleading. "I canna very well get away on my own without the lord having my head for not working. But if I were accompanying a lady on a ride,"

"Ah, so I am to help you escape your admirer." I realized with a grin.

"And you had better hurry." He warned, "My skin's starting to crawl. That's how I can always tell when she is near."

I couldn't stop the small burst of anxious laughter. At first, he eyed me curiously but he relaxed and laughed lightly.

"We better hurry, though, Sassanach." He pressed, taking my arm lightly and leading me through the barn doors.

* * *

I could see Geneva marching down the slight hill towards the barn as we settled on our horses. She'd changed her outfit which was likely why we had such a head start. Mackenzie glanced back and saw her also. When she noticed what we were doing, she appeared to speed up her step as she noticed us preparing to depart.

"We'd better hurry." Mackenzie noted with a tone of discomfort in his voice. "We dinna want her to catch up."

"It's not as if she doesn't know all the riding paths." I reminded.

"Aye." He agreed, nodding once and watching me with consideration. Then a large smile crossed his face. "So we best not stay on the normal paths."

And off he went. Like a loyal follower, my horse raced after his and into the thick bushes of the surrounding forest.

I held on for dear life as the horses bounded away from the main trails and deeper into the un-ventured wilderness. I wanted to say that I trusted his guidance and my own ability to ride, but I could not do so honestly.

I was therefore relieved when the horses finally slowed.

"I don't think they will follow us this far." I informed him.

"No." He agreed, relaxing a bit. "But it is better to be safe than to be sorry about it later."

"My husband said the same thing last night." I muttered, not thinking about the words before they carelessly came out.

"Oh?" He raised an interested eyebrow and I felt I simply couldn't lie to him.

"He believes I should stay away from you," I informed him carefully, but he didn't appear upset about it.

"And ya dinna listen to him. Good to know." He meant something by this statement, but I couldn't imagine what. "Did he say why?"

"He believes you are dangerous." I explained, slightly more confident due to his composure. "That any association to the bandit James Fraser."

He laughed at this. "Is James Fraser a bandit now? He went to prison along with the other Jacobite's, sure, but I wouldna call him a bandit."

"My husband knows differently. He said Fraser was a thief- of both land and virtue. Apparently he is known to steal men's wives and defile them."

He laughed more, but there was a painful edge to his voice. "I can assure you, madam, Fraser has only taken one wife and that was his own. I assume he defiled her plenty, but I cannot say she was an unwilling participant."

"Which you know so well."

"Alas I do. I have met them, if you do not remember."

I trusted Mackenzie's words, but Frank was a historian. Regardless of whether he'd lied to me about our relationship, he would never disrespect history. But perhaps one of them could be mistaken. Frank could easily have formed his opinion of the testimony of one unhappy man while Mackenzie could very well have misinterpreted the relationship. Did any of this matter to me, though? No. Of course not. So why would I did deeper into it.

"Are they still together?" I wondered.

"No." He answered harshly. "She died."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a tragedy. One the man never got over. She loved him, and loved him well. And so did he. He was no longer the same man without her. I cannot imagine how he could be, after losing such a woman. A piece of his soul, really." I couldn't understand the heartbroken tone to his voice, as if it had been his loss rather than a colleague.

"It sounds as if you possibly loved her also." I suggested, hoping it was not too formal.

"Aye. Everyone loved her."

"What was she like?"

"Stubborn." He answered almost instantly, but it created a small half smile that melted my heart. "And strong. Wise. Beautiful. More beautiful than anything else my eyes have seen. And funny. Bold and brave. And she cared for people more than anyone should ever need to."

"Did you know them well?"

"I did." He answered. "I knew them both well. Loved them. I was devastated that they needed to depart."

"I am sorry." I repeated putting my hand on his shoulder while trying to dismiss the racing of my heart.

He glanced at me for a moment, then down at my hand with a look that suggested maybe he thought I should move it. He didn't make the request, though. Instead, he took a deep breath and stared forwards.

"He was a laird." He finally said smirking and leaning towards me almost as if this were a status symbol he wanted me to be impressed by. "Laird Broch Tuarach of Lallybroch."

"That is where you are from." I realized.

"Aye." He smiled fondly of the memory. "He was a good Laird. Cared for his land and his people. You would have liked him."

"You sound very sure."

"I am." He was proud for a moment but then that was driven away by whatever dark thought plagued him.

"You miss home quite a lot." I assumed.

"Aye." He sighed. Then a small, hesitant smile crossed his face. "But no worry, lass. There is no need to fesh yourself over something you canna change."

I took a deep breath and decided to better enjoy the peacefulness of the woods. We would leave soon, a thought I found almost dismaying. I didn't really want to return to a home and time I couldn't remember. To a husband who'd been unhappy and unfaithful. Although I knew it was completely irrational, this felt like a new start, where we had an equal absence of memories and no ex-lovers or mistresses to worry about. Of course, I couldn't tell any of this to Frank. And Mackenzie wouldn't understand. Brianna was too young to bother with all of this. So I supposed I would keep it inside.

* * *

The rest of the ride was much more enjoyable than I would have expected. I didn't feel like I was trapped in the past when I spoke to him. He somehow seemed to know every right word to say and when and where. He never questioned a single slip up I had, no matter how strange. And I felt comfortable with him.

"Thank you for being such a good friend to me." I praised as we touring back towards the stables.

"It is truly an honour." he replied.

At the gate to the stable stood a patient but unhappy Geneva, noticeable in the distance due to her brightly coloured dress and her dark hair.

"I am glad you disobeyed your husband so you could save me from the child." He smirked.

"I never disobeyed my husband!"

"So that man knows you are with me?" The idea almost excited him.

"I am not his property." I reminded.

"Aye, my wife always said similar." He noted.

"A wise woman." I acknowledged.

"A wise woman who almost got her herself killed on multiple occasions."

"One bad decision made." I mused, smiling at the unpleasant Geneva as I entered the stone gates. She made eye contact hut her eyes were stone cold and calculating.

Mackenzie offered her a nod before returning his attention to me.

"You know," I started once she was behind us, only because I felt truly confident due to his avoidance of her, "I do believe she may fancy you."

He made a sound I could only describe as "Scottish" before adding to it, "I dinna need to add more difficulties to my life."

I smiled to myself, unsure exactly why his disinterest in her would make me happy. Then we both dismounted and he walked forward to take the reins of my horse for me.

"Mistress Randall." He looked down slightly for a moment as he tried to find his words. Once he had, he glanced back up to me. "Did your husband no tell you of his and your relation to James Fraser?"

I felt an almost paralyzing shock in the moment. Why would he believe me or my husband had any interest in a man we'd never met, beyond curiosity of course? Then I remembered, as if somehow our predicament had slipped my mind, that he thought Frank _had_ met this James Fraser. And it was not a far stretch to assume I would have either.

"I must have forgotten." I smiled bashfully.

"Among many things." He mused in a sorry tone.

"There you both are!" Geneva marched dominantly into the stable we'd entered. "Mackenzie, you are late for my ride."

"I apologize, mistress," Mackenzie offered her a small bow. "I was accompanying..."

"I know every well what you were doing!" She hissed, giving me a dirty glare. "It is all very well. You can take me now."

He made a face when she said this, and she offered him a seductive glance before returning another glare to me as if to question my continued presence. I wasn't sure why I was still there either.

"Unfortunately, I must feed the horses now." He apologized. "Maybe Williams or Duncan can accompany you."

"Hm." She seemed to accept this, though. "I suppose I will have to speak to my father about assigned riding times." I think it was meant to be a threat. "And perhaps also to your husband."

I felt a little guilt when she said that but reminded myself I had done nothing wrong. If he worried I had, maybe it was due to his inability to remain loyal which he was reflecting onto me.

"May I speak to you in private, Mr. Mackenzie?" Geneva continued.

Mackenzie looked uninterested, but smiled slightly at her. "Unfortunately I can no. I must put the horses away quickly so that I am not late to feed them."

This was clearly not the answer the girl had been looking for but her confidence remained unwavering.

"I must go, m'lady." He said, taking my hand and kissing it softly. Then he turned to Geneva, bowed formally, and made his escape.

When it was only us two, Geneva walked past me, shoving me out of her way with the jolt of her shoulder.

" _Excuse me_?" I asked, partially annoyed simply because I was standing in her presence.

"What?" She asked.

"Did you mean to walk into me like that?"

"Of course not." She started. "But I do find it strange, mistress, that you would be so determined to claim a man- -not even a man of wealth, when you already have a husband at home. Are you dissatisfied, Mrs. Randall?" Geneva wondered.

"Of course not." I hissed. "What a preposterous thing to suggest?"

"It is just..." She swayed with a calculated casualness. "Interesting that you are so determined to keep Mackenzie to yourself. Wouldn't you agree?"

"No. I would not."

"I suppose I shouldn't expect you to. A woman such as yourself."

"What does that mean?" It was difficult to maintain my emotional stability. There was a level of anger in me that I couldn't understand. What was I so angry about, though? That she was suggesting I was unfaithful? That she could possibly suggest I could be unhappy with Frank. But I was unhappy with Frank. Extremely unhappy with him. Maybe that was what was making me so angry. She was suggesting I could hurt him as much as he'd hurt me- -but I wouldn't. I had already proven that I wouldn't. I let him roll over his betrayal and, although I tried to convince myself I was alright with it, I wasn't. I tried to pretend I could ignore the pain until this crisis was over, but I couldn't. And Mackenzie was an escape from that.

He was a fantasy. One I was enchanted with. But how could I not want to play with the idea of having a husband who would love me eternally... the way I once thought Frank did.

"You know what?" I decided. "I don't think I care very much what a desperately unhappy _child_ thinks of me. But I should thank you for offering me an excellent example of what I hope my daughter never becomes."

"How dare you speak to me in such a way?"

"It is about time somebody does!"

I turned on my heel and exited the barn, kicking myself for not keeping a better control over my emotions. As I slammed the barn door behind myself, I wondered internally whether I had just lost us our stay. It was alright, though, I determined, since Frank had already secured us our travel. It might only mean moving to a tavern for another night or two. Maybe camping.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! Sorry this update has taken so long! Please let me know if there are any inconsistencies to this chapter (I did most of it when I uploaded my last chapter, then totally forgot to continue (LOL right)) I couldn't find any when I glanced through but I could also be blind to my own writing and story.**

 **Thanks again!**


	10. What is mine

**Chapter 10**

 _ **What is Mine**_

 _ **.**_

He'd enjoyed getting to know Claire once more. Re-meeting her and falling in love with her again, as if he already wasn't. Frank was a complication he didn't enjoy, but he could see the cracks in that marriage from a mile away. His marriage to Claire had been nothing like theirs.

They'd fought, yes, and argued, and caused the other pain, but they were passionate and strong. An unstoppable duo, which Frank and Claire obviously weren't. He was a good enough father to Brianna, he thought, but the idea caused him pain. He didn't want another man to raise his child or hold his wife. He wanted them.

Still, it took all his strength not to sneak into their room and kill him in his sleep, no... drag him outside and rip him to pieces for ever touching her. Or challenge him at the very least. But he knew Claire could not be so easily bought. Challenging Frank would only upset her. Especially when Jamie killed him. Still, the option was tempting.

The fact she didn't remember him was torture, but he couldn't doubt that it was true. Claire was not a very good actress, and she'd need to be to play as clueless as she was.

Jamie was conflicted. He wanted her to remember him. He wanted to force her to if he couldn't convince her nicely, but he didn't understand it well enough to guess how to repair her mind.

Plus, he enjoyed his time with Brianna and doubted Bree would be all that comfortable being taken into the woods by a man insisting her mother remember him.

He was shoveling manure in the early morning when the loud, determined footsteps appeared behind him.

" _You_." Jamie turned to find Frank, no, _Johnathon Randall_ , marching angrily towards him. The man was not as intimidating as the real Jack Randall who never needed to so much as raise his voice to be terrifying. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Frank did not stop until he was almost chest to chest with Jamie.

"Me. Besides a bandit and a robber of virtue?" Jamie blinked in calm surprise. "Have you also lost your memory?"

"So you know about that." Frank determined.

"Aye, among other things ye probably donna want me telling people." Jamie mused.

Frank didn't let this statement bother him. He stood his ground and maintained his composure. "You will stay away from my wife and daughter for the remainder of our time here. Or I will send a formal complaint towards your master. I do not know the nature of your interest in them, but you are no longer to see them. There are other equally capable hands who can assist them if needed. Is that understood?"

"You are going to need to work on your threats if you're to continue the use of Randall's name." Jamie mused, shocking Frank momentarily. He hated seeing Frank. At first, he thought it would be more than he could bare to see Frank and Claire in a room together. But after visiting them both at tea, he'd seen the clear contrast between how Claire had spoken of her husband when Jamie had first met him, and now. He wasn't sure what, or why, or how, but Frank had lost some of his hold on her, and that gave Jamie all the hope he needed. "Aye, I know. I might not ever have met you, but I do know your wife. And she hated Randall. After everything he did to her, she wouldn't return to him, ametia or no."

"Amnesia." Frank corrected. "How do you know my wife?"

Frank had feared the idea. He thought it had to be irrational to assume who someone was based only on location and colouring. And even though he never explicitly said it, Mackenzie answered that fear by bringing it into reality.

"The real question is, why am I letting you live after taking mine?" Jamie inquired, standing straighter now and glaring menacingly into Franks eyes.

"You." Frank breathed.

"Aye, so you've heard of me then?" Jamie was almost relieved to see the instant recognition and understanding on Franks face.

"How?" Frank sputtered, then regained his composure. "You are supposed to be dead."

"Yes, but no one would let me die." Jamie sang casually. "Now, I am not so bothered by that no more."

"She spoke of you more highly than some stable boy." Frank spat, feeling pent up anger of his own directed at the man who had cursed his nightmares since Claire first told him she was pregnant. The man she never let go, for anything, and was finally standing face to face with him. And now that he knew, he felt ridiculous for being so blind. Yes, he'd feared it, but he thought he'd been creating evidence where there was coincidence. Such as his strong resemblance to Brianna, his Scottish heritage, and his interest in Claire and Bree.

"Ah, but she did speak of me." He grinned pleasantly. He did this to bother Frank, but inside what he felt was the relief of the long hidden pressure that she might really not have loved him. Or that she really had chosen to forget him, or to be with Frank. "But ye did not tell her of me when she lost her memories."

The idea of someone losing their memories was strange to him. You could only lose memories if you drank them away, but even that wasn't strong enough to erase the time they'd spent as man and wife. He knew, he tried. He understood that Claire could drink, but how could she drink _that_ much. Still, he did enjoy the idea of lost memories. Because even as a fantasy, it was much less painful than accepting the possibility that Claire didn't want him anymore.

"I didn't see it as relevant." Frank determined. "It is not as if you hadn't been replaced."

Jamie's feet were set in the ground, preventing him from reaching forward and killing the man by snapping his neck. He assumed this would likely make many people unhappy.

"Replaced, usurped, whatever you want to call it."

"That is my wife, and my child." Frank hissed.

"Was it called gentics...? Aye, gentics would disagree."

" _Genetics_ are irrelevant when you have not been around to raise a child."

"No, but here I am now. Fate seems to have corrected itself, hasn't it. Dual at dawn if you disagree?"

"No." Frank snapped. "Duals are for those who have been challenged. And you do not challenge me, or my claim to _my_ family. I need to prove nothing. They are mine."

"Only because she doesn't remember me." Jamie mused. "I won her heart once, who is to say I canna do it again?"

"You will stay away from my family." Frank hissed through clenched teeth feeling more anxiety than he had since they'd arrived. Fearing something may be true and knowing that it was were two very different degrees of torment. Knowing the man his wife had chosen to be with still existed and was actively in her life was terrifying. "She will not believe you if you try to tell her anything; even if you know where we are from, she will doubt your word. And after you do, she will feel our family has been threatened, and she will no longer care what the truth may be, she will have you arrested and we will be gone that same night. So you may try to interfere with our life, but you will fail. Stay out of it."

This time Jamie didn't respond as quickly. He stood quietly, calculating his options. He didn't doubt the effectiveness Claire would have at defending her family, nor did he doubt her determination and stubbornness. He wanted the truth, though. He didn't want to let her leave again- -he refused to let her leave again, unless she remembered him and decided that was what she really wanted. A few less than legal ideas came into him mind. Claire could be angry but at least she would be his again. And when he brought back her memories, she would laugh and forgive him anyways. Still, he would need to get rid of Frank first. Murdering him wasn't an option because it would surely upset Claire. And he didn't seem to be the type who would sit by idle while Jamie kidnapped Claire and Brianna.

Frank hesitated waiting for Jamie to respond, but after realizing he might not, he decided to try, "If you could have won her heart back, you'd have done it already. Unfortunately, the truth is that between you and I when we both stand in front of her as options, she chooses me."

"She believes she has a child with you." Jamie hissed stepping closer to Frank. Although Frank remained calm, he could not help but instinctively stumbled backwards. "And I have yet to win her heart back, because despite what you might think, I am no a bad man. I will not disturb her happiness if this is truly what she wants. If she wants you. And if I can believe, despite your family, that you can care for my wife and daughter, I willna get in the way. I will sleep better at night knowing they are safe and cared for, even if heartbroken they are not with me. I will not challenge their happiness, so long as they have it. No matter how much I hate you. And I do."

Frank stared at him in slightly skeptical surprise. He wanted to add that he also hated Jamie, but decided not to push his luck in that situation if Jamie was being serious.

Jamie continued, "But you have taken from me what is mine, and that is no something I can allow. So, in exchange for my silence as to your true identify, you are going to buy me out of my contract to the Dunsany's."

"What?" Frank blinked in surprise.

"You heard me." Jamie nodded. "You are going to say your wife and child love me as their teacher, or you need a good hand and are familiar with me, or whatever your heart may desire, I truly do not care, and then you will buy my contract and once we are back in Scotland, you will give me my freedom."

"That is not possible."

"Oh, it is." He said as if he'd put weeks of thought into it rather than just moments. "Due to my parole, I require the Dunsany's determine I am free to leave. The British will undoubtedly argue that I need to be monitored more, but who better to manage me than one of the Kings finest, Captain Johnathon Randall."

"You want me to set you free." Frank breathed. Although, as a historian who'd studied the battle of Culloden, he understood why Jamie had been imprisoned, he found it difficult not to say, "You were sent to prison for a reason. Setting you free early would be immoral and completely irresponsible."

"I was sent to prison to protect my family and my land after being forced into a war which cost me my wife and both my children." Jamie snapped. "Despite knowing how it would end, I still made the sacrifice and I do regret it often but I cannot change it. That does not mean I should be made to suffer more. I could lower myself to your level of idle threats by demanding that you will help me, _Frank_ , or I will expose your false identity so that you may be hung till death for crimes against the crown. But I dinna need to do that because you are going to prove to me that you are a good man. A good enough man for _my_ wife and child. I do not care what sort of man you are on your own, but I willna stand by while my family remains in the hands of a man less than worthy of them."

Frank stared at him for a moment, but the moment was too long for Jamie.

"Will ye accept my bargain?" Jamie wondered, almost hoping Frank would say no so he could justify destroying his life. He wanted to be a good man. He wanted to do whatever was best for his family. That didn't stop the seething hatred he felt seeing Claire with another man. Especially one who looked so similar to Johnathon Randall.

"I set you free." Frank clarified. "And you will leave us to return home."

"No." Frank was surprised by the force given behind the word. "No, I will accompany you back to the stones. I assume that is where you are going, no?" Frank didn't answer so Jamie assumed he was correct. "I will go with you. One part for safety. You may have good intentions, but I doubt you've held a sword or pistol as more than a toy."

"I got us from Scotland to England just fine the first time." Frank argued in annoyance. He was going to add to a statement in respects to his combat knowledge but Jamie cut him off.

"You are traveling with my wife and daughter,"

"My wife."

" _My_ wife, _my_ daughter. I survived seven years in a cave without the redcoats ever finding me, I can do it again, this time with prisoners." He warned. "Besides, you are not from Scotland, you will easily get lost- -don't argue. The second reason I will accompany you is to ensure that you truly are deserving of them. If I must lose them again, especially now that I have _finally_ met my child, I will only lose them if I knew they are better for it."

"Anymore reasons?" Frank asked sarcastically.

"Yes." Jamie took a deep breath and avoided looking at Frank. Other workers passed but at a distance so they did not need to worry about gossip about their conversation. "I have missed her. More than anything else in the entire world. I wassna even sure she was alive. And now she is back... I willna lose another moment with her until I have to... And my child," He closed his eyes for a moment and savored the first moment he was able to publicly claim his daughter, "Brianna, I havna met her before now. I didna know if she was a boy or a girl. I didna know if she looked more like me or her mother. I had never seen her open her eyes, or walk, or heard her lovely voice, and now I have and... I will not lose a spare moment of that until I must." He blinked and looked back to Frank whose eyes were curious, annoyed, and slightly guilty, though he hid it well. "So I will go with you, or we do not have a bargain and you prove yourself a coward unfit to care for them."

Frank was quiet for a moment. He debated Jamies words and wrestled with his own feelings of jealousy and resentment towards the man he'd despised for so many years. He did not want Claire to remember him. But, he thought, this could be the exact closure she needed. If she didn't remember him by the time they returned home, they could rebuild their lives together. And if she remembered once they were home, then she would have her goodbye, and she would understand that Jamie was able, and willing, to survive on his own. Frank felt somewhat dirty at the idea of taking her from him once more. Her and Bree.

He'd been able to justify not telling her before because he wasn't even sure the story was true. He was keeping a dark, painful part of her life a secret. One he couldn't feel confident to be true enough to retell anyways. But now it was different. He knew it could be true. It very possibly was true, and a man striking similar characteristics to the daughter Claire had born from the story was standing across from him stating that it was true. He'd called him Frank. He could only have learnt that name from Claire. It was impossible to deny the reality, but Frank still wanted to.

Claire was angry at him already for keeping so many secrets. Adding more would only make her hate him. She wouldn't be so foolish to believe that he hadn't figured it out. Or that Jamie had said nothing the entire journey. Frank needed to give her a chance to remember him. She could then make her decision, and hopefully she would choose him as she once had. He would just need to earn it again. His best chance was while she didn't remember Jamie. So, Frank decided,

"I will do my best to buy your freedom, and in exchange you may accompany us back to Scotland. But you are not to tell Brianna or Claire anything. If Claire remembers, then we will figure it out from there."

"A bargain, then." Jamie nodded, hesitantly putting his hand out to Frank who had extended his own. They shook quickly and immediately pulled away from each other. "I have chores to do, then."

As Jamie turned to return to the paddocks, Frank called, "I am sorry, by the way."

Jamie froze, and turned his head slightly. He wasn't sure what sort of an apology he would receive, but he was curious.

"I know what my ancestor did to you... Johnathon Randall, that is. And I am sorry for that." Frank said. "Truly I am. I promise you I am nothing like him."

It was hard but Jamie managed a small smirk, "Aye, I ken. Or I'd have dealt with you already."

"You are not what I expected." Frank continued.

"Oh?" Jamie asked, turning once more to Frank.

"She described you are nearly a barbarian. Educated, yes, but depending on force as much as negotiation. I expected you to create a scene, start a fight... lead with your emotions, I suppose."

"Oh, aye." Jamie nodded, curious how detailed Claire had been while describing him and quietly wishing he knew what she'd said. "Ten years ago I'd have carved out yer inners with a rusty spoon. Lucky for you my time in the cave has made me wise."

"Hm, lucky for me." Frank muttered, slightly taken by the statement.

* * *

Although it was not easy, it took no more than two days for Frank to honour his side of the bargain. He'd used Randall's savings to free Jamie from his contract, knowing he wouldn't need the savings when they returned to their time, and on the second day helped pack up a carriage for the long ride north.

"I don't understand." Claire told Frank. "I enjoy Mackenzies company, of course, but why?"

"We need a guide." Frank answered simply as he loaded a case under the carriage.

"We didn't need one coming down."

"We were lucky." he argued. "Next time we might not be."

"Alright." She surrendered, much to his disappointment. "I will go check on Brianna."

"Okay, darling."

When Claire had disappeared from Franks sight, he walked around the carriage towards the horses which Jamie attached to the cart.

"Let me ask you," Frank started, "If you loved them as much as you claim, why would you let them leave?"

Jamie managed the horses gear and finished strapping on the bags of supplies before turning his attention to Frank. He then glanced around for near by listeners but after finding none, he answered, "I dinna want them to leave. I hate the idea. I want to kill you for suggesting it. I want to..." He was going to say the same about her leaving again, but reminded himself of her amnesia. Although he didn't understand it, he didn't believe her to be false. If she said she couldn't remember him, then she couldn't. "I want only to take her in my arms and force her to remember me. But upon further contemplation I have determined that is not the right thing to do. These times are no safe for lasses. Not as safe as your time. And now that I have met Brianna, my beautiful, exceptional babe, and I have learned how much she has grown and all the opportunities she has waiting for her, well... well this time cannot offer her that. And as much as it may pain me, I canna send the lass without her mother. So long as I know they are safe and well cared for, I can survive."

"Have you tried to remind Claire of...?"

"I have considered it." He smiled wickedly. "And in a few weak moments I was nearly tempted. But no."

"Why not?"

"If she loved me even half what I loved her, I canna put her through that pain again." He explained. Then he loomed over Frank as he warned, "But do not get me wrong, Randall. I am greedy. And as good a man as I may want to be, I will also take what is mine. If I see you do not treat them right, I will cut off yer head and blame it one a bear."

"I treat them excellently, thank you very much." Frank spat.

* * *

They were off shortly after. Jamie, unhappily sat outside steering the horses, but was pleased when Brianna had insisted on joining him to watch. Frank and Claire remained inside the carriage, awkwardly trying to create small talk.

"I am sorry I have not been a perfect husband lately." He told her.

"I'm sorry I cannot remember enough to say you're wrong."

He laughed once dryly.

Meanwhile, Brianna spoke animatedly about her friends back home, her school, and her desire for pets.

"Mama says I can have a dog but daddy says I can't." She pouted. "It's one of the things they always fight about. Not recently, though."

"Do they fight often, then?" He asked her. A part of him felt almost hopeful that they did, another part of him was disappointed. If she wasn't with him, he still wanted her to be happy. He also wanted to murder Frank.

"Yes." She answered softly. "They didn't for a while, after her accident. But then she remembered his other friends who she doesn't like."

"Other friends?"

"Yeah. She never used to mind when they came around. She didn't like when we were home when they visited, but she didn't mind other than that. But I guess she forgot and it made her really sad."

"What kind of friends?"

"I'm not sure." She shrugged. "Most of them are from his work. My favorite is his secretary. She's so nice."

"All women."

"I don't know. He has lots of friends. So does mommy. She just doesn't remember them right now."

"Hmm." He was sure he could paint a picture from what Brianna was saying, and he wasn't very sure he liked looking at it. He tried to suppress his blooming fury so that he could think more critically, but it was not easy. That his his wife, whether she remembered or no. She was his and he had trusted her care to a man who was obviously not fit for the challenge.

Jamie couldn't imagine that Frank and Claire had been able to overcome Claires love of Jamie when she returned to her time. At least that is what he'd hoped. He didn't want to share her heart more than he had to. He loved her and that was enough, he decided.

"What do you wish to be when you are older?" Jamie wondered.

"A historian like daddy!"

 _Nope._ Jamie didn't want to hear it.

"Ech, historians don't do much." He muttered.

"But daddy does."

"Can he teach you to drive a carriage?"

Her face lit up and his mirrored hers. Carefully, he gave her the reins and tried to carefully step her through the instructions. She did fairly well, except a few bumps but it never seemed to cause Frank or Claire much concern.

They stopped at a creek a few hours after leaving to let the horses drink. Frank and Claire had left the carriage to stretch their legs and were shocked to see Brianna holding the reins.

"Mama! Daddy! Did I do good? Did I do good?"

"Dear God, man, are you insane?" Frank demanded.

"Ah, the wee lassie did a well done job." Jamie and Bree shared a small grin before she returned the leather and dismounted to get water for herself.

"Someone could have gotten hurt." Claire mused.

"Good thing we've a healer with us." He answered.

She laughed once and shook her head.

"Not all wounds can be healed." She warned.

"Aye, as I am very well aware."

"How many nights until we reach our destination?" She wondered.

"Oh, I would say... maybe 15."

"15!?" She demanded, sure it could not be so far.

"Aye." He could make it eight days, but he didn't want to. "And we must stop and get supplies in Glasgow."

"How long will that take?"

"I dinna ken what kind of an impression your husband will make in the highlands. He was never a popular man. I doubt it would be safe for Brianna to be near him while in civilization. Or yourself. So, let us say add three days."

"What!?"

"Are we almost ready?" Frank wondered to announce his return.

"Darling, I thought you said we'd be back in no more than a few days." Claire complained in a way he thought was very unlike her.

Apparently, Frank didn't disagree. His response was stammered and confused as he tried to decode the meaning behind her tone. "I-I sup-pose I was mistaken, dear."

She grumbled something under her breathe before marching angrily back into the stable.

"Is that how she normally behaves with you?" Jamie wondered curiously.

"Not in the slightest." Frank answered, unaffected by the casual nature of the comment. Normally he despised seeing Jamie. Now, he was somewhat distracted. "Have you any idea?"

"None." Jamie answered. "Though I am still confused by this concept of amnesia."

"It is caused by serious injury or trauma." Frank explained dimly. "Lately I've been thinking it may be caused by the repressed trauma of her trip through the stones. I am of course not specialized in the matter, but I found it troubling enough to want to forget."

Frank felt another small serge of disappointment when Jamie clearly understood his reference to the stones. It re-solidified his claim that he was in fact the same James Fraser that Claire had known and loved ten years before.

Frank followed Claire back into the carriage while calling for Brianna who insisted once more to sit outside with Jamie. Although he appreciated her company, he found it impossible to focus on with Franks insinuations repeating in his head. What if it was trauma Claire was trying to forget? What if the trauma was caused by Jamie? Had she thought their marriage was so terrible? She loved him, he was sure, but that sureness was based on her refusal to let him go. This time she had. She'd left through the stones, planning to never see him again, and barely given it a second thought.

For the bairn, he tried to remind himself, but that had never stopped her from getting involved in his business before. Not even when he begged her to stay away. This time she'd left. Maybe she'd left hating him... traumatized by their life together. No, he tried to convince himself that was not the case, but then why wouldn't she remember him? How much could she want to forget him that she finally had? He'd never forgotten her. He'd never forgotten Randall, or anyone else who'd cause him pain or torment.

He shook his head and tried to focus on the journey. He was tired of pretending he was strong enough to ignore the situation. He was tired of seeing her with someone else, especially him. He was tired of her not knowing him. He'd stayed strong at the Dunsany estate because he feared his making a scene would threaten Claire or Bree. And he'd been respectful to Frank because he needed Randall to buy him his freedom, and to keep him close to his wife and daughter. Now he was too tired. He didn't want to pretend he was alright anymore. He didn't want to pretend he wasn't burning with anger, hatred, and desire. Brianna's talking was the only thing keeping him strong enough not to finally break down into pieces.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the best place?" Frank asked.

"Aye." Jamie answered plainly. Then he decided to add, "Near water but not so near population that we need to fear intrusion."

"I suppose I will build us a tent." Frank decided. He was noticeably hesitant to ask, but also a bit smug as if reestablishing Jamies position in the group, "Will you be needing a tent, Mr. Mackenzie?"

"I am no afraid to sleep under the stars, Randall." Jamie smiled but it didn't transfer to his eyes. "I will leave you to your tent and go down to the river to wash up."

"Is now really the best time?" Frank inquired.

"T'is as good a time as any."

Jamie was happy to be alone for the moment. For the first moment in years without someone watching him or needing him. For the moment, he was free. Free once more of responsibility and honour. He'd consider running on his own back to Scotland, and saying damn to Randall, but he could not pull himself from Claire or Bree. He felt like a shell of a man. A disappointment, as he was sure his father would consider him. And he felt Johnathon Randall laughing at him from the pits of hell.

Once at the water, he removed his shoes and stockings, and sat quietly on a rock and placed his feet in the almost icy water. "I am so verra sorry Claire."

He removed his shirt also and soaked it in the water, scrubbing it lightly before pulling it back over his head.

As he sat, he closed his eyes and debated his situation. He was being a good man, he tried to convince himself. But every other molecule in his body demanded he be the opposite. _They're mine_ , his mind hissed and the desire to claim them once more followed shortly after. _They're happy_ , he tried but his mind refused to believe that. _Claire isn't happy. She needs me_.

At some point of his internal struggle, he lost a moment of full consciousness as he fantasized about his options and he felt himself fall from the rock into the water. At first, he did not care to push himself back up. The numbing cold of the water, and the promise of eternal paradise if he stayed face first in the water was tempting him. "AHHHHHHHHH" He screamed into the water. Once more he did it and was sure he could be dead in moments and leave his body to float face down, down the river for quiet a while before it started bothering anybody. But the sense of duty over and eventually he pulled himself up. The air felt like it was cutting into his skin with razors but he didn't mind because it distracted him.

He wiped his wet hair back, and splashed his face twice before sitting back onto a lower rock, placing his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands. He remained in this position, letting the wind pierce his wet skin as he debated his reason for existence. He'd wanted her back. More than anything. He'd made every deal with God that could think of... promised to love her no matter the condition she might be returned in. He'd been thinking that she might be once again returned with another man's child. Not with his child and no memory of his existence. He felt like God was challenging him, and he really didn't agree with the challenge. It was cruel, but maybe, he thought, if he could prove himself worthy, he might be praised for completing God's challenge.

" _Oh, Lord_."

His head snapped up when he heard the gasp. He knew her voice. Better than he knew most. His heart began racing and he felt warmth returning to his body at the sound of her presence. When he looked back, she was staring at him wide eyed and slightly opened mouthed. Briefly, he considered she might be surprised by his still attractive features (he hoped), or terrified by the marks undoubtedly noticeable through the wet shirt (more likely), but his assumptions were both proven wrong when she plainly stated, "You're bleeding."

This surprised him, but strangely not as much as her reaction as she raced down the mucky hill so that she could carefully examine his shoulder.

"I dinna feel a thing, lass." He didn't shake her off because he enjoyed her touch, and he wished his statement had been true. He felt hurt. Angry. Destroyed. Diminished. Lost. Tired.

"Hold still... here, remove your shirt, let me check."

"I am fine, Sassanach." He moaned as she tore at his shoulder. "Tis no more than a scratch." He couldn't see anything when he looked, and he certainly felt nothing physically wrong with him.

"What happened?" Claire demanded, ignoring his assessment.

"It must have happened when I fell. Dinna fesh yourself over it. I am fine."

"You don't look fine." He snapped. "Remove your shirt."

"Sassanach." He groaned.

" _Now_."

"Fine." He grumbled, pulling it off slowly, "But only because you are so desperate to remove my clothing."

"An infection during these times would be a death sentence." Her voice was strangely tense.

He had not thought much when he removed his shirt. She'd seen him naked many times before. Her small gasp brought him back to the reality of the situation, and acted as more evidence to prove she was not lying about what an amnesia was.

"Scars from long ago." He explained, feeling oddly tense. More than he had the first time he'd shown her. Probably because her reaction meant more to him now.

"Where...?" She blanked for words.

"When I was eighteen." He answered, making her heart hurt for him. "After I displeased your husband." Although he knew Frank and Johnathon were not the same people, nor the same sort of people if Claire was willing to love him, he found it impossible not to use their lies to his own advantage so that he could openly hate Frank.

It took her a moment to understand. "Johnathon." She breathed, reminding herself of the difference, but also her deception.

"Aye." He mused numbly. "Those are the scars of near endless floggings. Or what felt like that. But it was a long time ago. They dinna hurt no more, I assure you."

"How could someone do this?" She asked, lightly tracing the scars on his back.

"That is a reminder." Jamie answered. "From Randall. That I must be obedient."

"No." She breathed so airlessness that he almost considered she might be married to the real one. No, only an imposture. Her fingers traced the scars and his back, careful not to hurt him. Chill ran up his spine.

"You'll remember I told you that my father had died?"

"I do." She agreed, moving her attention back to his shoulder. It was only a small cut, emphasized by the water, but she figured she should clean it the best she could.

"Aye, well, that was the day he died. Seeing me flogged, the lashes cutting through my skin... it was too much for his heart to handle."

"I'm very sorry."

"It is not a fault of yours." He assured her with a small smile.

She lingered on the skin of his shoulders. Her fingers traced lightly over the curves of his muscles and the lines of the scars. He didn't care to ask why, because he'd missed the sensation.

"Why have you been in a bad mood?" He wondered finally.

"I didn't think it was noticeable." Then she continued when he didn't respond, "I have not been sleeping very well."

"Don't ye have a position or spell for that?"

"Not here." She laughed once. "Besides, it is the dreams that bother me more than actual sleeplessness."

"What do you dream of?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Yes you can." He disagreed. "I willna tell a soul."

She hesitated but decided to sit on a rock across from him.

"I've been dreaming... things a married woman should not be dreaming about with a man who is not her husband." His ears perked up at this. She was awkward while speaking, her cheeks turning red and she never made eye contract.

"I cannot imagine that would keep you awake for long."

"It does when it's so good... I wake up telling myself it isn't real- -that it's wrong all in the same, but... I want him. Badly. And I hate it because... I like the dreams. What sort of person would I be to allow such perverse thoughts into my head when I am married to another man? At first they were simple and easily ignored. But now they are too loud and I am completely confused. I am so tired of being confused."

"Who is the man?" She looked at him shocked, and almost horrified, so he clarified, "In your dream."

"No one in particular." She shrugged. She was lying, he knew, which he thought answered her question.

"Hm." But he surrendered for now. "Should we turn home?"

"Yes, please." She answered hopeful to move on form the conversation.

* * *

The night was cold and unpleasant for Jamie, and he found he could not sleep as his ears focused on the tent housing his wife and child. What if they had sex? Did they have sex? From her description of her frustrated dreams, he would think not, but maybe that was how she got over it. He disagreed with that tactic.

The next few days of travel were much the same. They traveled, they camped, Jamie debated whether his actions were worth his survival. He'd done everything he could think of to regain her memories without explicitly telling her, including taking a page from one of Brianna's stories.

Claire had joined him to find fire wood at one of their stops. While walking, they discussed more about themselves, in more detail than before. She was often curious about Jamies wife which was always an awkward conversation. He wanted to tell her who she was, but had determined he'd wait until Frank truly proved himself unworthy before making any sort of move on her. As much as he hated Frank, to the deepest parts of his bones, Jamie could not deny that he cared for Claire and Bree.

"It is tiring." Claire continued as she spoke about not remembering anything. "I will have these moments when I am so sure I know something, or I recognize something... but that is mad and impossible."

"Like when?"

"I keep feeling like... well, when we go to the river to bathe or get water. I feel like I've done it all before, but I have not. Perhaps I am mixing memories with my uncle Lamb, with newly created memories... then I also feel like I know things that I have no business knowing. And I am too embarrassed... I feel to silly, to ask if they are correct."

"Ye should be asking." Jamie informed her. "T'is important to find your memories."

"If I am to be honest," She continued.

"Please do." He picked up a bundle of thick sticks and sandwiched them between another small log.

"I believe... I may be wrong, but I believe I... dreamed about your back."

"Oh?"

"Like, not seeing it, or being told of it, but feeling it. I had thought nothing of it at the time... it was only a dream. But when you showed me, I thought... But that is ridiculous."

"Do you dream of me often without my clothing on?"

She choked out a cough then, and didn't answer.

He laughed at her response and turned to meet her bright red face.

Then, without putting much extra thought into the action, he dropped the wood in his arms, marched forwards, grabbed her tight by the shoulders, pinned her to a tree behind her, and attached his lips to hers. He didn't mean for the kiss to be so rough, or for his mouth to be so invasive, but that's what happened. And although she pushed against him a little at first, she was very quick to surrender to his lips on hers.

He pressed his hips into hers, more to increase their closeness than to instigate sexual desire, but his body responded instantly, and she gasped over his mouth as she felt him.

Jamie felt a heaving, hungry desire as he pulled her closer. One of his hands held her face to his while the other ran lightly up and down her arm, until he hand enough control over her body to wrap the arm around his neck. He thought, maybe, since she'd realized how much she enjoyed the connection between their bodies, that maybe she was starting to remember him. He was hopeful when he first considered pulling away.

He opened his eyes for a moment, and kissed her twice more lightly. Her eyes were struggling between remaining closed and enjoying the passionate sensation that filled her, or opening wide in shock. He pulled her closer and enjoyed the moment, wondering if finally he would have his wife back, as if the kiss would be enough to reignite her memories, or bring more light to the ones already trying to resurface.

He only truly removed his lips from hers when he ran out of air. He felt lighter, though, and more in control, but also guilty. Not for betraying Franks trust, he didn't care about that much at all, but for surprisingly forcing himself on her, even just for the moment.

She responded by leaning against the tree, wide eyed, to catch her breath.

"I apologize, lass, I just..." He started but was paused when she slapped him hard across the face.

"What in the blood hell was that?!"

"You dinna remember?" He asked, wondering how he could have been so breathlessly affected by the kiss when she was so clearly not.

"I remember you assaulting me two seconds ago, yes!" She snapped.

"Brianna." He breathed, taking a step back as she attempted to hit him again. "She told me stories you used to tell her. About princesses put to sleep by curses. They woke up when their princes kissed them. I thought... maybe, if this was a curse..."

Her eyes melted then and the fury was visibly lost.

To his surprise, she even laughed. The sound was music to his ears but he could hardly enjoy it over the strong disappointment.

"You mean true loves kiss?" She giggled. "That only works with people who are in love- -soul mates. And they are from children's stories. Not amnesia patients."

"It was worth the try, I thought." He mumbled, looking down. Claire put her hand on his cheek and lifted it slightly.

"Thank you, Alex, but I don't think that will work." She smiled. "I appreciate your effort, and I have grown very fond of you as my friend, but attempts like that to bring back my memory won't help. I'm sorry."

He struggled to understand why she would be apologizing to him, but decided it didn't matter.

"I am sorry I forced myself on ye." He shook his head and sighed, but did not move for the few moments that her hand lingered on his skin.

Jamie thought it was strange that she was not angry by his actions. He didn't mind the failure because he had only been hopeful that it might work. Stories came from truth, but he was foolish to believe a kiss could stop a curse. Plus, the kiss had awoken a spark in him that he thought died out long before. Although it had only caused him to want her more, it made him realize that honouring his deal with Frank might not be worth it. Besides, did he care if he betrayed a Randall so that they could have his wife and child? No. To hell with Frank, he was taking back what was his.

They camped a few miles outside of Glasgow. There, Frank would send in the official release papers for James Fraser, which had already been signed by Lord Dunsany as a witnesses and character testimony. He also sent in a testimony stating that Mackenzie was welcome back into their service anytime in the future. By the time morning came on the day Frank was meant to deliver the letter, Jamie determined he would need to be gone with his rival, Frank. So the moment light broke, he had pulled Frank from his tent, where Jamie was pleased to notice the married couple sleeping apart.

"I don't understand." Frank grumbled as he tried to comprehend why Jamie had forced him to stand in the cold morning dew. He hadn't even started a fire.

Jamie groaned with irritation. "These men know you. You need to behave as if you were still the same man, one they want to serve and be done with, which I doubt you can do effectively with a wife and daughter around. And it is no secret no one likes you- -Johnathon, ye ken- -and they will be all to pleased to take their anger on the lasses while your back is turned."

"So what do you suppose I do with them?" Frank demanded. "Leave them here?"

"Aye, that is exactly what I think."

"That is ridiculous." He snapped. "I will take them with me and you will watch my back."

"Aye, and how do ye plan to explain to Claire the first man who recognizes us together and assumes us man and wife still? I may be willing to hide the truth from Claire, but I will no lie."

"Then perhaps we don't need to go into Glasgow." Frank suggested.

"Aye, then the extra day to Edinburgh? It would be best to go there anyways." Jamie suggested. "Or did you plan on failing your part of the bargain. You do remember that I can simply kill you, say you got lost in the forest, and reclaim my family that way."

Frank groaned and shook his head. "Of course not. I am a man of my word."

"What is going on?" Claire had a blanket wrapped around her as she escaped the tent, and her hair and eyes were puffy from sleep. Her hair, Jamie remembered fondly, often looked much more of a mess after mornings with him.

"Ye husband is going to Glasgow to deliver a document to earn me freedom from my parole." Jamie answered calmly. "You, me, and the lass will be waiting here."

"What?" Both Frank and Claire asked.

"Aye, ye canna expect we leave them in the forest alone." Jamie told Frank.

"We will come with you." Claire demanded.

"That is up to you, Randall." Jamie said giving him a sharp look. Jamie wanted time privately with them, but he was fairly sure he knew of at least four people currently living in Glasgow that would recognize Claire as his wife. Maybe they could offer her a reminder as to her history.

"He is correct." Franks voice was tone and unhappy. "But they can take care of themselves for a day."

"Three." Jamie corrected, surprising the couple. "Aye, at the verra least three days. You must see that they finalize the papers, and then you will be asked back in to sign them once more." Jamie wasn't sure how much of this was true, but he didn't care much either. Frank would believe him until he had a reason not to. "I dinna know the process exactly, but Ned Gowan, my lawyer," He said to Claire, hopeful that the name might bring some memories. It did not. "Often made them sound like oftly boring processes. In regard to my coming with you, Randall, no one will believe you could really be you if I were there. I hate you, remember, and as much as ye claim to have changed, that fact willna. My entering town with you will only cause suspicion."

There was a moment of tense hesitation in the camp until finally Claire spoke.

"Alright." She decided. "But you should hurry, darling."

"Are you serious?" Frank asked in shock, glancing at Jamie with cold eyes.

"Yes." She nodded surely. "I have seen his back. I doubt anyone in Scotland would trust your identity if they saw you together calmly. And they are already wiry about your position since your disappearance."

"You saw his back?" Frank repeated.

"Aye," Jamie answered, and continued suggestively, "Aye, when she was tending to me in the river. Did she no tell you?"

Frank's jaw locked and he glared hard at Jamie.

"No."

"It was just a scratch." Claire dismissed as if that were the issue. "You should hurry, Frank. The quicker you leave, the quicker you can return."

And Frank obeyed but not before giving Jamie one last, "Do not touch her." Demand as he saddled the horse.

"Oh, I would never touch another man's wife." Jamie vowed putting his hands up as if in surrender.

But Claire was not Frank's wife. Not in that time.

When Frank was finally gone, Claire started a fire and Jamie took Brianna down to the river to teach her to catch fish. They returned with two fish and Brianna was beaming with pride. Jamie, for the first time, felt somewhat content. No, his wife didn't remember him and his daughter didn't know she was his, but he finally had them alone for a few days.

At the end of the day, Jamie played chess with Brianna, slightly annoyed that Frank had taught her not him, while Claire rested against a tree, watching the pair fondly.

* * *

 **I hope you have enjoyed so far. Let me know if you think I should expand upon any parts in this chapter. I know a breezed over a very events, hoping to save some time, so if I should add, just tell me :)**

 **The next chapter will involve the sexy stuff ;)**


	11. Cheater Cheater

**Chapter 11**

 _ **Cheater Cheater**_

.

Waking up was a shock because I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep. The fire had burned down to embers but was alive enough that it could easily be brought back to life if we fed it. It was dark now, darker than it would be if it were only sundown. I prepared to close my eyes once more and enjoy the warmth, until I realized that with the fire gone, there should be no warmth. And the ground shouldn't be comfortable.

I sat up suddenly, and through the dim light the embers and the partially covered moon created, I saw Mackenzie. He was sleeping against a tree and I had curled myself onto his lap. Although he was comfortable- -extremely comfortable- -I struggled to find the desire to get up, I eventually did and sat face to face. His eyes were closed and his face was peaceful.

I could not seem to stop myself from tracing my fingers onto his cheek so softly I was sure it could not wake him. It had been two days since I last touched him, when he kissed me in the forest. And the kiss had been... impossible to forget. His hands hardly touched me yet somehow they navigated perfectly over my skin, in just the right ways to make my body ignite with desire. His lips on mine had been like an instant shock that traveled almost painfully from my mouth down to my groin. And the weight of his body on mine... It had been impossible to ignore the dreams of him ravishing my body before... how was I ever supposed to sleep again with that so clearly in my memory?

I wanted to kiss him now. Softly enough that he wouldn't wake, and hopefully I would forget right after, but I couldn't. That would be wrong. So instead, I traced the skin on his face so lightly that he would not wake.

Either I was wrong, or my groggy wake up had woken him too. He opened his eyes and watched me calmly. No expression crossed his relaxed face but I saw his chest rise then pause as if he were holding his breath. I tried to pull my own hand away, but that was apparently an impossibility.

Slowly, he rose his fingers to my face and began tracing them over my skin. The sensation sent tingles throughout my body and unhappily woke parts of me that I had shut down after learning of Franks...

I pushed Frank from my mind that moment, but needed to ask, "Where is Brianna?" My voice was almost a whisper which surprised me slightly.

"I put her to bed in the tent." He answered just as quietly. I tried to pull myself away from him but it wasn't happening.

I nodded slightly and tried to understand why I was allowing this. Because I wanted to maybe. Because this didn't feel wrong. It was the first thing that made me feel almost completely guilt free since I woke up without my memory. Maybe I wanted this to be my revenge. No, I don't think that was it, though it did allow me to justify my allowing him to pull my face towards his.

And then he kissed me, softer than the first time, but with more determination. I melted almost immediately against him, returning his kiss just as willingly as he offered it. I wish I could say I was at the very least unhappy about it, but I wasn't. And I yet, I still failed to feel guilty. As if this was somehow right. And I wanted to hate myself for that but I was all too consumed by the sensation of his mouth over mine.

I draped my arms over his shoulders as he pulled me closer, one hand holding my face and the other hand on my lower back. Then, as if I weighed four pounds, he picked me up and dropped me over his lap. My legs straddled over his and one of my hands took his face to pull him closer, making him mine.

I used my weight to press him to the tree and I lightly pressed my pelvis into his stomach.

 _Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop._

But I couldn't stop myself. I kept telling myself _just one more second._ I bit his lip lightly and moaned, closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling of his hands as they dropped to my ankles and slowly, very slowly, traced up my legs, bringing my skirt and shift with them. The trail of his fingers burned my skin and ignited more excitement between my legs. I was sitting on my knees over his legs but this didn't seem to be an issue for him. He pulled the skirt and shift out from under my legs so that he could freely access anything underneath.

My body trembled in anticipation as his large, warm hands grasped my knees and squeezed them hard. I let out a small, but desperate moan against his lips which his body responded to hungrily.

 _Stop him, stop him, stop him._

But I refused to listen. _Just one more moment_ , I thought, wanting to know what he would do next.

I kiss him once more before pulling my lips from his. I felt his body as it prepared to protest, but he relaxed when he felt me kiss the side of his mouth, his chin, and all the way across his jawline. Then, I placed my face under his chin and lightly nibbled at his skin, hearing him groan quietly. The harder I bit down, the rougher he was on my legs, sometimes squeezing so tight that I was sure I would have bruises. His hands continuing to squeeze them as if he were unsure they were real. One of his hands remained on my leg while the other lightly traced its way to my core. My body froze in anticipation feeling his thumb press against the front and his fingers slid over my folds. I let out a small whimper with my teeth still holding the flesh of his skin. He didn't seem to mind.

He groaned something in Gaelic as his fingers became more active in their journey. I continued to whimper softly against him until finally I had the strength to pull away from his neck, offer him one last kiss, close my eyes and say, "Please stop."

I was _extremely_ disappointed that he seemed to listen. His fingers maintained their position over the entrance of my clit but they refrained from moving deeper. I moved my hips slightly over him, and embraced the pleasure of that movement willingly.

I tried to force out the words demanding he move his hands, but continued to tell myself just one more moment. And it took all my strength not to move my hips faster over his fingers.

"I shouldn't." I decided, my voice seemed to be trembling.

"You should." He cooed, and a large part of me wanted to believe him.

"Why was I sleeping on you?" I wondered.

This question make him turn his head slightly, but I could not see his expression in the dark.

"I came to move you into the tent with Brianna." He answered, moving his hands back to my legs under the shift. "But ye grabbed my leg and held me there. Then I sat back assuming you'd move eventually, and I guess I fell asleep. I woke again to you molesting me." There was humor in his tone, but he tilted his head once more and kissed me. I really wished I could have said it was unpleasant, but it felt natural. Good. Exceptional.

"I am not the one who started moving my hands up _your_ skirt." I taunted.

"Aye, you can if you wish, though." He offered lifting his pelvis a bit despite my weight on him. We both laughed lightly for a moment, then he sighed, "I've missed ye, Claire."

"What?" I asked but he shook his head. "Tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I wouldna be right." He answered. His tone didn't suggest we wanted me to ask more, but also didn't dispute the idea. "And ye wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." I suggested. I couldn't very well believe I was sitting on his lap, but here we were.

"You know, you speak in your sleep." He mused, effectively trying to change the subject.

"I do not."

"Aye, you do. You are not always clear, but the names your cry are."

"And what names do I supposedly say?"

"You call for Brianna."

"Understandable." I grinned. "Who else?"

He hesitated so I gabbed my hand into his shoulder. " _Ach_! Devil woman."

"Come on, now. You can't tell me I cry out names in my sleep and not clarify."

He hesitated, I think glared, but answered, "Jamie. Sometimes James."

"James?" I asked. "I don't think I know anyone named James."

Maybe at the hospital.

"Hm." He mused. He placed his hands onto my arms with a solid grip, then closed his eyes in the darkness and took a loud breath. "Have ye ever been unfaithful to your husband, Claire?"

"What?" I asked in surprise.

"Have ye?"

"Of course not!" I snapped, then realized that may not be so obvious considering our current position.

"Then I dinna want to make you into an unfaithful woman. I myself may be willing to take a woman still married to another man, but I canna ask the same of you." He said pulling me slowly from his lap and putting me down beside him. "I apologize for losing my control."

"Do not apologize." I told him, regretting that we were suddenly apart. "Thank you for... stopping, I suppose."

"I don't want to take yer honour." He replied, taking my hand and holding it. "And as much as I may hate him, your husband seems like he good to you. A good man."

"He is." I nodded, feeling my stomach roll into knots which made me feel ill. Maybe it was that I could so easily speak with a man who openly hated my husband. "And an very good father, but..."

"But what?"

I almost didn't tell him. But we'd become, what I would consider, friends in the time we'd spent together. And I felt I could trust him. I knew private things about him that might embarrass him, so why not offer him the same truth? "I don't... know... if I want to be with him anymore."

"What?" I am not sure whether his response was more angry or shocked.

"I... love him. More than anything. He was my entire world, or I thought he was. But since we've been here he has shown me what a great team we make. I understand, without my memories, why we stayed together. For Brianna. And... I want to make my marriage work but... I don't think I can. Being here, he has been a nearly perfect husband. But we are here because of impossible circumstances which will be gone when we return home. Then we will be back to reality." I knew that none of this could make any sense to him- how could it?- but I continued anyway. "This adventure has shown me that our marriage only works in a fantasy. I will not take Brianna from him, of course, but how can I continue without my memories after all that he has done?"

"What has he done?" His voice was almost tense as he asked.

"He is a good man." I repeated. "I know that. But... I don't know if I can trust him."

"Why?" There was a desperate longing in the word as he asked it.

I hesitated, not wanting to admit it aloud, and also not wanting him to think any less of me or my marriage. He already hated "Johnathon Randall" so there would be no love lost there.

I took a breath and looked at the blackness of the ground. Maybe it would be therapeutic to tell someone. Especially someone you'd never see again after a few days. "A little while ago, before we came to Scotland, a woman came to my door. She wanted to speak to me about Fra- -about Johnathon. Because she thought I would do the right thing and... leave him so he could be happy." I felt him shift beside me but didn't want to see his reaction, not that I could in the darkness. "Apparently, I'd made him miserable as a husband. She said I was neglectful, and distant, and that I gave him no love and never cared for him, these of course being the words she said he'd used to describe me."

He wrapped his arms around me then and pulled me back onto his lap. His chin balanced over my head and he hugged me so tight I thought I might bruise. Not that I minded. The slight pain was a welcomed distraction.

"I don't know what I had done wrong. I can't remember anything. But I must have been a truly horrible wife to make someone as loving as him so unhappy."

"You are an excellent wife." He told me, but how could he know? He was just trying to be nice. His voice and his body were tense, and I think he was struggling to find words to say because his jaw seemed to be locked as he spoke.

"He tried to tell me we had some sort of arrangement. As if I would ever agree to such a thing." Although I didn't want to burden him with my problems, I felt relieved that I could finally express some of the pain and disappointment I'd been harboring since our arrival to this time. The priority was returning home. Not that I was completely sure I wanted to.

This felt like a new start. It was a selfish, naive thought, but I felt we could possibly be okay here.

"I just... I wish I knew what I had done so wrong."

"You do not deserve a man who doesna appreciate you, Claire." He said, kissing the top of my head. "But on your own you are not to blame for anything he could be angry about. I don't know any kind of arrangement that would take a good man from his wife, or that any good husband would make allowing his wife to..."

"I'm just so conflicted. He says he loves me, and that he never stopped but how can I believe him?"

"I am so sorry he hurt you." He mumbled into my hair. "And for your honour, I will be having words with him."

"You most certainly will not!" I snapped. The outburst clearly didn't change his mind, so I changed my approach. "Please, I promise I can take care of it myself."

"That doesna mean you should have to." He snapped. "That bastard...!"

"I'm alright, I swear. I am only glad I was finally able to tell someone."

He rolled over then and pinned me on my back. I blinked a few times in surprise as he wrapped my legs around his waist and lowered his mouth to my jaw.

"Good Lord, what the hell are you doing?" I asked only out of shock, and a little pride. Honestly, I should have been more ashamed to say I didn't mind. Maybe it had been too long since Frank and I had slept together, or maybe my brain injury had left me lazy to morality and judgment. I couldn't be sure the reason but my body wanted his and my mind wasn't fighting hard enough to stop it.

"I am taking ye, woman... mo duinne." He determined in the sort of way that should have made me violently angry but for some unfathomable reason, didn't. "Randall, or no, I'm no being a good man so the scum can take ye himself."

I started to argue but he pressed his lips against mine, effectively shutting me up. I wiggled my arms and thrashed my chest as if to stop him, but it was only for show so that I could pretend I wasn't willing to betray my husband.

How could I live with myself if I lowered myself to Franks level? How could I believe we hadn't had some sort of unspoken arrangement when my willingness was evidence of the opposite? Yet somehow, I don't think I cared.

His hands roughly rubbed between my hips and knees. Then he placed one hand directly between my legs and began pulling up his kilt with the other. I let my head fall back and my eyes close as one of his long fingers entered me. It played inside me for a moment before he slowly added another. I instinctively tried to close my legs over his hand so he could not leave, but his hips blocked me.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to pull myself closer to him, keeping my eyes closed so that I could pretend this was just another of the dreams that had tormented me for so long. My fingers dug deep into the skin on the back of his neck, and on the cloth covered part of his back. A wailing moan left my mouth, loud enough that I worried it might wake Brianna. I pushed her from my mind instantly. I wanted to enjoy this moment of weakness, so I bit my lip and determined to remain as quiet as possible.

He removed his fingers so suddenly that I almost voiced a complaint, only stopping myself because I knew what was next. I felt his erection hot against my leg after he lifted our clothing out of the way, and my stomach began turning more in anticipation. My body burned for it- -for him. I needed the attention, the intimacy, the release. My legs nearly began trembling as I waited for his return.

My loins begging me to attend to them. Demanding instant gratification. He pressed his hips and his erection against me then, taunting my body. I could feel how wet I was when I felt how easily his cock slid over my opening, but never entering. His tip slid carefully against me as if it had a mind of its own, and it found joy in my torment.

" _Ermmm_." I groaned, trying to remain silent.

He pressed his cock harder against me, as if he were about to enter me, but then he stopped once more.

"Ask me for it, Claire." He ordered. I felt the trembling anticipation throughout his body. His teeth began nipping at my jaw as one hand grabbed his cock and began rubbing.

"Please." I breathed.

"Please what?"

"Get inside me." And he obliged my request instantly. Full and deep as if he'd done it a thousand times and knew the area perfectly. His hips began thrusting hard and fast, hardly giving me a moment to recover from his initial attack. " _Ah_!"

I stuck my teeth into his tensed shoulder to keep myself quiet as he continued to hump me fast and hard. Both his hands held me hard and furiously. One held my hair and briefly tried to pry my teeth from his shoulder, while the other dug deeply into my side.

I was wet enough that his rough entry didn't hurt too much, but as my walls swelled and contracted over him, and his thrusts became angrier and angrier, I began getting sore.

"Alex." I moaned in warning, but his hands became rougher and his thrusts became more aggressive. "Alex, please." I moaned, letting my head fall back as he ravaged my body. " _Please_!"

His fingers dug into my back as he attempted to pull us even closer. He offered me about ten more forceful thrusts before slowing to a near stop with his entire length inside me. I felt I was going to choke on my own anticipation as I felt him thrust once more, his body stiffen, and the sharp release of his pleasure deep inside me.

He groaned but continued to move his hips in a perfect rhythm as if he'd already somehow perfected the desires of my body and he pumped himself deeper inside me. He groaned something in Gaelic in my ear, but I didn't understand it. He continued to speak to me in Gaelic until finally my body surrendered to him and I also found my satisfaction.

He didn't leave me as he leaned back against the tree and draped me resting on his chest, my legs impaled over his cock. And I didn't ask him to. My body enjoyed having him inside me, though I tried not to let that realization make me feel sick.

I had just cheated on my husband. I'd been foolish enough to believe I could ignore that. I don't think I could.

But when I focused only on the man who was inside me- -on our maintained connection, I was able to numb out some of the gut wrenching guilt.

How had Frank done this? How had he created and maintained relationships with other women? I could hardly stomach the knowledge I had done it this once. The anger caused by that made it easier to enjoy the moment.

"I am sorry for being so rough with ye, Sassanach." He spoke softly, cupping my face to kiss me tenderly. I was not in a position to protest. "It has been a very long time, ye see."

"I understand." I breathed, lowering my head to rest under his chin. It was difficult to relax with the unforgettable and un-ignore-able knowledge that he was still inside me. "It has been a while for me also."

He laughed once but it sounded a bit like a cough of relief. "That is very good to hear."

"Is it?" I wondered grimmly. "I am worried it has clouded my judgement."

"Don't you worry, Mo duinne. Nothing can cloud such terrible judgement."

"That wasn't every nice." I noted, sitting up so I could face him.

"Aye, but who said I was nice?" He seemed almost too familiar, running his hand up my back, up my neck softly, and tangling it into my hair so that he could bring my face to his.

After a few kisses I choked out a cry, shook my head, pulled it away from him and dropped my face into the crook of his neck. And I think I was crying but I was too lost in my own mental torment. His arms wrapped around me tightly, and he began whispering softly in my hair, not in English.

"I didna mean it, lassie." He told me softly. "Ye do not have terrible judgement."

"But I do!" I wailed. "I just cheated on my husband."

His hands tightened on me. "If he wanted you, he wouldna have strayed. It is no as if he didn't ken what would happen if he wasna a good man."

"But he is a good man." I cried, hugging him tighter because, despite my reason for sorrow, I did consider him a friend and his presence was a comfort to me.

I sensed his desire to argue and I could almost feel how unhappy the comment made him, and I understood why. I had seen his back, caused by the man he thought I had married. He'd been tormented for years by Johnathon Randall, and I felt a blooming desire to be honest with him so that he could comfort me correctly without hurting himself.

He pulled me off him then, and curled me into a ball on his lap. I near instantly missed the connection but it was probably for the best.

"Dinna fesh yourself, Sassanch." He breathed but his voice was pained and dry. "I have no doubt yer husband will forgive you."

"How?"

He didn't answer. Instead he bent his knees the most my body would allow, and pressed his face into my shoulder while his arms tightened around me as if I might disappear any moment and he wanted to keep me here.

This only torn more angrily at my heart and I wished more than anything that I could have my memories back. Then I could understand my bahaviours better.

We sat like this for a while. Long enough that I fell asleep. When I woke again it was still dark but the moon was no where to be seen. I was very warm, hiding in his strong arms. And I felt almost happy at first, until the guilt returned. More than I thought I should have because my guilt was not bothered by my having an affair, it was at bothering Mackenzie with my love of Frank.

Why would he care who I loved? He'd bedded me, wasn't that what he wanted? But still, I could not rid myself of the guilt demanding I fix the situation.

Shaking him awake was the most reasonable response, but of course I did not care to do that. Both my desire to apologize, for some unknown reason, and my desire for the feel of his body once more, led me to wake him by gently nibbling on the base of his jaw. I partially expected him to wake up annoyed, but instead he smiled and pulled me closer.

"I almost thought I was dreaming." He breathed.

"What were you dreaming?" I wondered quietly.

"When we were in Paris." He answered, confusing me a bit. "After my dual with Randall. I thought ye would leave me for sure, but you didn't."

"I thought you were hiding from me. Afraid to confront me." I replied but I had _no_ idea where the response came from. His eyes opened a bit and he looked at me curiously.

"Sassanach?" He asked in an almost hopeful tone.

"Tell me about your wife." I insisted, hoping to change the subject. "You felt rather excited last night. Am I the first woman you have been with since her, then?"

As a married woman, an unfaithful one, even if my husband had been unfaithful first, I should not have been so anxious to hear the answer.

"That is no an easy question to answer." He chuckled awkwardly.

"Oh?" I looked up at his face but there was not enough light to see him. "Have there been many, then?"

"No, I have only ever been intimate with two women." He answered. "My wife and a maid, many years after she was gone. And only once, I swear it."

"And me." I added.

"Aye, you."

"So three women."

"Do you remember a few days ago, maybe a week or two?" He started. "When Fran- -Randall told you of a man named James Fraser?"

"The wife stealing bandit?" I asked. "Yes, I do."

"And did you believe my word when I promised he was a man who had loved his wife and would never take another man's?"

"I did." He'd said it with enough passion, it was hard to doubt.

"Aye, well I think it is best I tell ye something." He sounded almost bashful. "I am James Fraser."

I choked out a laugh at this, but didn't put much thought into it.

He continued, "My family calls me Jamie, as may you if you wish."

"Why would you go by Alex Mackenzie?"

"I am a criminal to the English, ye ken. They know my name well." He explained. "Lord Grey thought it would be best I take my middle name and mother's clan to disguise myself. My full name is James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser."

"That is a mouthful." I commented.

"Are you no mad at me for keeping that from you?" He wondered.

"Of course not."

"Then I would greatly appreciate if you used my given name." He smiled. "T'is been a long while since anyone has used it."

I smiled softly at him. "Alright, Jamie."

His smile grew and his kissed me with a mouthwatering passion that activated my entire body. _One last time_ , I thought.

But it happened twice more before I finally found the strength to return to my own tent with my daughter.

* * *

The morning was bright and I'd been able to sleep in. I had _wanted_ to sleep in which, although a welcome surprise, was still a surprise. My legs were sore, too sore to fully close, and I thought the center of my body my be bruised. When I checked, I had his bites and love marks claiming the skin on my stomach, chest, and inner thighs. There were also purpling imprints of his fingers covering my body. I almost wanted to be angry, but found the anger to be an impossibility.

In fact, a strange part of me wanted to rush outside and greet him with a kiss. I could hear him and Brianna giggling as they built a fire together. He constantly reminded her to stay quiet enough to let me sleep. I appreciated this, but mostly found myself smiling at the thought of them bonding.

Then reality struck and forced me to access the situation without my rose coloured glasses on. I fixed my clothing quickly and exited my tent to find Alex- -Jamie- and Bree making a breakfast of bird while the horses grazed lazily.

Jamie looked up at me, first in surprise, then appreciation. His eyes told me exactly what they were thinking as his mind undoubtedly replayed moments from the night before. His smile was enchanting though. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It filled my body with warmth, and a little pang of unacknowledged guilt.

"Morning, Claire." He greeted in a beautifully cheerful Scottish voice.

"Good morning, Jamie." I think my voice sounded stiff, but I don't think it affected him. Calling him Jamie felt like a wait off my chest. I wondered if Frank knew, and instantly realized that he would have. If he was taking a legal document with Jamies name on it to Glasgow, he would undoubtably have realised his identity. So, why didn't he tell me? And how did I know?

Jamie said I'd been- -oh God- -calling his name in my sleep. I felt my face go red as I sorely sat on a log across from my daughter and... l-o-v-e-r? The idea filled me with disgust, but a small pang of happiness. My dreams were mostly of him and me. I must have known somehow who he was. Maybe I'd read his name on the paper without realizing. Dr. Fulton was going to create another thesis when I returned. If we did... I felt more than comfortable in this time. Maybe because it was simpler. There was nothing I was supposed to remember here.

"Jamie?" Brianna asked.

"Aye, that is my first name." He informed her.

"What about Alex?"

"That is my middle name."

"Oh." She blinked and continued on playing with the fire. "What do I call you?"

"What do you want to call me?"

"Padre." She answered with a small grin, and I felt myself choke out a cough of surprise, which I hid behind a laugh.

"Ah." He said, watching me carefully, before returning his attention to her with a very large smile. "if ye wish it, lass."

"Do you know what padre means, darling?" I asked, slightly worried.

"Uhu." She answered, poking the fire.

"How did you sleep, Claire?" Jamie wondered, pulling my attention away from Brianna.

"I slept well, how about you."

"Oh, snugger than a drunk man." He answered with a playful gleam to his eye. I wanted to pretend I was too proper, too well groomed to acknowledge his excitement, but the moment I thought of the night before, I wanted more of him. "Would you like breakfast?"

"I am famished." I nodded accepting the plate of bird I was offered. Personally, I hated the idea of eating something that looked like it had when it was murdered, but Brianna needed to eat and she needed me to be an example.

"After breakfast, can I braid your hair, padre?" Brianna wondered.

"I suppose, if it is alright with your mother." Why was he involving me? Oh, I suppose she was my responsibility. I found it oddly difficult to remember that.

The day passed without boredom as we all spent time together, and I found I was a little too excited to put Brianna back to bed. I was almost tense after telling her a story and checking to make sure she was asleep. When I left the tent, though I was still sore, I was jittery. Like a high school student sneaking out on a school night. He watched me from the fire where he sat on a log. The forest was darkening but when we looked up through the trees the sky was still relatively light.

I took a seat beside him, leaving a decent amount of space between our bodies. Nothing more needed to happen unless he really wanted it to. Evidently, he did.

He very silently took one of my knees and pulled it onto the other side of the log so that I faced him. My legs open over the logs as I straddled it. Then he gently took my by the backs of my knees and pulled me closer.

My heart was racing so fast I thought it my suddenly stop. My body was tensing up and getting nervous with anticipation. His hands went to the strings of my corset first, untying them so he could pull my dress off over my head. He dropped it to the side, away from the burning fire. Then he gently started on the strings of my shift over my chest. My heart raced as he very slowly pulled it off, dropping it with my dress.

His eyes drank in my naked, exposed body with hungry excitement. It was difficult, sitting across from him so trusting of what he would do and how he'd react to finally seeing my bare body. I glanced carefully to the tent as if Brianna might have woken. The tent never moved.

I glanced back at him as he removed his belt, his kilt, and his shirt. His body was beautiful. Perfectly sculpted with accents of red hair. One of his hands reached forward and lightly traced the skin around my breasts, and down my stomach, getting dangerously close, but not close enough to the part of my body that wanted him the most right now.

"M-my daughter seems to insist upon calling you father." Even if in Spanish. Did she know the word, though, or did she simply think the word was fun? It seemed as though she understood it since she had referred to him as _daddy 2_ only three hours before. She also insisted that he return home with us, though he seemed to understand that might not be a possibility.

"She does." He replied.

"I suppose that means she likes you."

"I am rather fond of the lass, also."

"Is she anything like your daughter?" What sort of questions was I asking? Why? I knew, as well as Brianna should, that we couldn't bring him back with us. Why would I even consider any sort of future with him? _And I was still married_!

"Yes." He answered, pulling my legs closer, though the wood scratched my buttocks, so that my legs draped open over his.

"I think..." But then he kissed me and my thoughts went away. My entire focus was on him, his body, his hands, his lips.

And he took me once more, but much more gently than the night before. His body engulfed mine, and my fingers clawed into his back as if he needed more scars to remember my family by. He didn't seem to mind, though.

He lasted much longer, also. With the initial excitement gone, he was able to enjoy my body and let me enjoy his. He was just as hard and forceful, but with less of the aggression. I did enjoy the aggression, but being sore already, the softer approach was appreciated. He took me every direction he could get me, front, back, and side, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, or laying down. And we continued until we were both panting balls of dirty sweat on the ground.

We lay between the log and the fire when he were finally done, though the added heat was unneeded. My body was wrapped entirely around him and I had no intention of letting go until long after the repeated waves of pleasure and satisfaction rolled off of me.

It was not as difficult this time, to ignore the guilt I felt for my feeling a lack of guilt. I convinced myself it was because I had already determined I was going to leave Frank. I couldn't trust him, and I had now proven to myself I could want another man just as much. It was likely, I realized, that this is what Frank had meant when I confronted him about his affair. Maybe we had grown apart. Maybe we were only together for Brianna, and making it work until she was off to collage. That would explain why it was so easy for me to move on, if subconsciously I knew it was already long over.

And then I felt the shame. Frank, my dear, lovely husband, he did love me still, didn't he? He'd simply used my amnesia as his own fresh start, to start over before Brianna was born, before we likely got busy moving and raising a family, and starting new careers. He used it to allow us to go back to the start fresh. One where I remembered that I loved him so he could use that to rebuild our lives. I felt a tear come to my eye as my realization filled me with hope.

This, I decided, what I had done with Jamie, was the last piece of rebellion I would allow myself. He'd betrayed my trust and now I had betrayed his. But we could start over, assuming he would forgive me as he damn well better, and return home and back to a life where we could be blissfully in love as I remembered us.

I sat up, reaching over the log and Jamies sleeping body to grab our clothing. I wrapped his shirt and kilt over him, before putting on my shift, offering him one last kiss on the cheek, and returning to the tent with my dress.

* * *

I woke up feeling just as guilty as the night before. Maybe worse. Because I missed him. Jamie. But what I missed from him was the therapy his body offered. I did not love him and he didn't love me, we enjoyed the release of each others body's.

I exited the tent to find Brianna and Jamie by the fire cooking rabbit. Jamie was dressed now, of course, as if last night had never happened, sitting on the same log we'd used last night, and Brianna stood behind him playing with his hair, putting it in buns, and placing sticks in it as "bows". Jamie focused on cooking the rabbit as if he did not notice.

He smiled when he saw me but I did not smile back. I felt nervous and uneasy. I must have known, somewhere deep inside me, that we would probably have to talk about what we were doing at some point, but I'd been ignoring that and simply living in the moment.

I stood idly contemplating my options until he approached me with a plate of rabbit.

"Ye dinna look so good, Sassanach." He reached for my arm but I cringed away. Then I looked at my feet because the heart breaking expression on his face was unbearable. "Are you alright?"

"I realized last night," I mumbled, "Why Frank did what he did. Why he lied and... why he cheated on me." I realized after that I had called him Frank, and that some of these words might mean nothing to him, but when I glanced up he was certainly not confused. Whatever language I was using, whether he was familiar with the words or not, he clearly understood it. "We'd drifted apart and he found love elsewhere. But my memory loss was a fresh start. And I think I should also take advantage of it. I can't keep doing this with you. I'm sorry."

When I looked up again, I had to take a step back. His face remained neutral but his eyes held some kind of threat. I wanted to believe I trusted him, but the anger he was withholding was painfully obvious.

"It was only two nights." I might have said this more for myself. He didn't stop me, though, as I thought he might, as I walked around him to go sit by Brianna. A few moments later, he joined us silently. But the tension was strong and I wished suddenly that I had waited until Frank had returned. Jamie wouldn't hurt us, I told myself again and again, but I had also never seen him so angry.

It wasn't until about midday, after he left alone to get fire wood, refusing for the first time not to let Brianna go with him, that he returned looking back in control of his emotions. I don't know what he did, but it seemed to work. He wouldn't look at me though. And refused to make eye contact. I found his behavior childish, and frankly, angering.

How dare he treat me like this simply because I didn't want to continue a two day affair?

I almost didn't let him take Brianna fishing the next morning when she begged him to take her.

It was only because he'd looked me in the eyes and offered me a small, _almost_ apologetic smile, when he told me they'd "Be back soon." that I allowed it.

I was angrily piling wood for the fire, and mentally arguing with Jamie when I heard the footsteps racing towards camp. Horseshoes, if I wanted to be specific.

I glanced up as Frank came bursting through the bushes.

"Frank." I blinked in surprise. He was out of breath and quickly jumped off his horse, raced towards me, took me in his arms and kissed me.

If I were being completely truthful, the gesture was a bit unwelcomed and it made me feel dirty. I needed to tell him, obviously, but now wasn't the best time so soon after something had clearly happened.

And the most noticeable difference to Frank, was the red coated uniform he wore.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading. She will be getting her memory back very soon, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter which has hopefully revealed some of the tension**


	12. The truth

**Chapter 12**

 _ **The Truth**_

 _ **.**_

"What happened?" In asked immediately. Why was he dressed like a British soldier and why was he charging so desperately into our camp? Had something happened? Was he hurt? Being chased? Should I fear for Brianna? A momentary panic overwhelmed me but Jamie had her and they would probably be fishing all day. If he was being chased, possibly by the angry Scots Jamie had warned about, we could lead them away together and I trusted Jamie would take care of her until we could find them again... if we could.

"I need to speak with you, Claire." His voice was breathless but not as urgent as his entrance.

"Of course." I nodded, still somewhat lost in the fearful fantasy of our having to leave Brianna behind so angry villagers didn't try to use her to take revenge against Johnathon Randall. Brianna and Jamie looked so similar, and had bonded so instantly, that it was almost hard to remember that she was our daughter not his. Surely we could convince the villagers the same.

Frank sat on a stone and sat me on the log across from him.

"I love you." Frank told me in as serious a tone as he could manage. "I have always loved you and I am sorry I ever convinced you otherwise. I vow to love you, and only you, rain or shine, from this day forward, Claire. You... You and Brianna, you are my entire world and I would be nothing without you. Whatever happens, I hope we can get passed the ugliness of what I have done so that we can be an even better team for our daughter."

"Frank." I tried. "You don't need to say all of this."

"I do. I cannot live without you." He continued. "And from this day forth, I will promise you complete honesty. We will share no secrets."

"I think you will change your mind."

"Never."

"Frank, I need to tell you something." I tried, wanting nothing more than to appreciate every word he spoke. But, realistically, before we started fresh, we needed to get over our terrible histories.

"First I must tell you something... something I have feared telling you but I promised you no secrets and I intend to honour that vow."

"Alright, but first-" He cut me off.

"I did not lie, Claire." He began. I took a deep breath and shook the annoyance out of my head. "While we were honey-mooning in Scotland, the same day your amnesia remembers, you went missing." I was about ready to slap him now. Couldn't he let me forgive him, and then forgive me so we could just move forward? "I can show you proof of that once we return home." Then he spoke even faster to prevent me from interrupting. "You were gone for over two years, Claire. The police were certain you'd left me for another man-of course I knew better... Or I thought I had. Then you returned, bone thin and maddened. Whatever had happened had clearly been an ordeal."

"Frank." I groaned.

"Listen Claire." He ordered. "You wanted the truth, this is it."

"And you decided this wasn't important to tell me." I assumed in a dull tone. "That my having gone missing was somehow irrelevant?"

"What mattered was that you returned. I didn't want you to remember the pain it caused you."

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest but decided to listen to his story as quiet as I could, mentally preparing my argument for every ridiculous point he made. I suppose it wasn't impossible to believe. And a traumatic experience would help to explain why we'd drifted apart.

"I was there for you, of course, but..." he shook his head and looked down. "You didn't want me anymore. The story you told me... no one could believe. No one would. But you returned pregnant... with Brie." I was ready to yell now for continuing the tale that he hadn't fathered our daughter, and he knew this. Quickly, he added, "I didn't believe you'd left me willingly, but I thought your story might have been your way to cope with what had happened."

"What was this story?" I inquired skeptical. _Shut up and let us move on, please Frank._

"You... went back in time." I laughed at that immediately. I don't know if I laughed because we had all done that together, or I laughed because I thought it was ridiculous, but I laughed. "I didn't believe you of course. You said you had gone back in time and met a group of Scotsmen- -From Clan Mackenzie, who'd taken you hostage. While in their company you were discovered by the English and thought to be a spy by Johnathon Randall, the real one. I still, did not believe you, but now that we have experienced it together, I am not sure I can doubt much longer."

"I am not sure I can handle this much longer." I muttered. He ignored me.

"One of the men within clan Mackenzie you said was named Jamie Fraser." That perked my attention. I felt my breath become shallow and wasn't sure I could continue to pay attention much longer. What could he know about the man? Did he know I had slept with him? Was he trying to trap me or taunt me? That wasn't his sort of behavior. I shook my head once and took a deep breath as he continued. "You told me you had married him. And fallen in love. You only left him because of Culloden. You were pregnant and needed to protect you baby. That is the only reason you came back to me."

"Is that all?" I wondered.

"Essentially."

"And I suppose I am meant to believe that nonsense?"

"I don't care if you believe it!" He snapped. "I care that you understand that I love you enough to tell you the truth, even if it means you might leave me for another man."

"Well I don't." I spat. "You expect me to believe that I once traveled through time and married another man who I loved more than _you_ but somehow I forgot about him?"

"That is what you told me when you returned."

"And you continued to love me despite this?" I was angry because it was so obviously a false story. But if it wasn't, he told me now only because he knew there was nothing I could do about it. I knew I had a connection to Mackenzie- -Jamie- -whatever his name was. I couldn't explain it. And if I were being honest, he _looked_ like the man who would have fathered Brianna. It was almost eerie now that I compared them. But none of that mattered. Because as far as I could tell, Frank was her father. He'd raised her. It wouldn't be fair to separate them, especially not by two-hundred years. And if I were put into a position to stay with my _husband_ Jamie or leave with my _other_ husband, Frank, I knew I could not just abandon Brianna. So my only option was to go where Frank went. Plus, the future was a better place for her than this world. It wasn't even a debatable idea.

So the entire idea of him telling me this is redundant. It didn't give me more options. It didn't allow me to feel free of his lies. Why did he tell me this? And why would he create such a story anyways? Did he hate me so much? What could I have done to him?! My mind wrapped around itself in more anger and confusion. I wanted... so badly to believe that he loved me, that he wanted a second chance to make the marriage work. But how could that happen now? Either this story was true, and I did not know how to best proceed, or the story was false and Frank hated me.

If it were true, then I'd just spent the last few weeks remeeting my husband, and the father of my child, who also somehow _forgot_ to tell me the truth, and allowed me to live unhappily with Frank because I thought I was unloved in my own marriage, which still might be true. My husband who'd managed to seduce me and... I felt like I was picking at straws, hopefully searching my memories for signs that Jamie loved me and _tried_ to be honest with me. He did love our daughter, it seemed.

If the story was not true, though, what exactly did that mean? The possibilities were too awful for my mind to want to accept them. How was I supposed to know why he was doing this? Were they working together, had Frank paid him, was it coincidence that Frank was using? How could I know? It's not as if I could trust him.

"Nothing you say or do could make me stop loving you." Frank stated. He seemed so sincere, too.

"Well, I disagree." I snapped because I was angry. "And I am tired of your excuses and your _convenient_ use of my amnesia to excuse your behaviors! Yes, I want honesty, but not like this!"

I was so tired of being confused. I was tired of hearing one side of every story and having to guess all the other sides. I wanted a truth that I could believe. One that fit into rational reality. I suppose that had gone away with time travel.

"Because I _am_ willing to be honest about my mistakes, I believe I should inform you that I had sex."

He paused, clearly confused by the flat statement. Then, I think, he understood. His eyes widened and his eyebrows grew in shock and some terror. I think he might have been asking for detail.

"H...ho. How?"

"With Mackenzie."

"Wi...th..." He turned and kicked a tree.

"And he told me something similar." I continued hotly. "That his name was James Fraser and that he'd changed it for the Dunsany's. I do not know what cruel game you and that man are playing but I've had about enough of it!"

"Claire!" I couldn't tell if he was angry or pleading, and I don't think I cared.

"I am going to the river with Brianna." I snapped.

"No, we need to discuss this." He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him, In response, I stepped down hard on his foot.

"There is nothing to discuss!" I cried. "We are clearly not the same people that I believed us to be, and I am tired of your lies, Frank!"

"I am not lying to you!"

"Is that man my husband then?!" I demanded.

"What?"

"Is that man fishing with our daughter," I started, barely keeping myself together. "Is he my husband?"

"I am your husband, Claire."

"Not according to you." I snapped. "Not in this time."

He was quiet for longer than I felt comfortable with, but finally answered, "I think so."

I am not sure what instinct came over me but I slapped him hard across the face.

"Claire." He breathed.

"You can't do this to me." I cried. "You have no right to be _doing this to me...!_ Did... did you pay him?"

"What?"

"Is that what this is?" I wondered. "Do you hate me so much that you would pay a man to seduce me, just to confuse me? Oh... Oh, no, I understand now... If I believe I am married to another man, I will grant you the divorce you've wanted so long. Alright! Have your divorce! But stop playing with my mind!"

"Claire, that is not what I want!" He begged. "You are acting mad!"

"Of course I am!" I snapped. "First I lost ten years of my life and now I am two-hundred years in the past!"

"Claire, wait." He took my hand again. "I would never set up such a scheme. I can hardly plan a surprise party, don't you remember? You've lost ten years but not the year we spent as man and wife before the war. I love you, only you. I told you only because I know you may get your memories back. And once I might not have been your first choice, but I wish to be now. We can... we can start over."

"That's what I wanted." I breathed, looking at his freshly polished shoes. "I thought maybe that was why you lied... but this..."

"I lied because I was afraid!" He snapped. "I was afraid of you returning to the woman who didn't love me anymore. The one who refused to forget him! And then I got any historian's dream come true, I went into the era of my study! And when I get there, oh, as luck would have it who did I meet by my wifes preferred husband, so I was afraid! Can't you understand that?"

"Can't you understand how impossible your story is to believe?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Because I didn't believe it either."

"Why are you dressed as a British soldier?" I decided to ask, rather than spend anymore time fighting to trust him. Frank, as I remembered him ten years ago, was not a liar. He hid truths and withheld information when he didn't feel comfortable talking about it, but he never lied. And if I was going to use this as a second chance, I would need to look for that Frank. The one I adored.

"Oh, yes." He blinked down at himself in surprise. "It appears that Captain Johnathon Randall esquire, has been reinstated. The British want me to return to Fort William immediately."

I blinked at him in surprise. "Will you?"

"I thought it was our intention to return home." He said.

"yes, but if what you told me is true," I didn't know if I wanted to return home. I liked being somewhere I didn't have to worry about mistresses showing up at my door.

"I told you what you told me." He reminded.

"If it is true then..." I hesitated to think about what Frank said as the truth but the one story I could convince myself to consider was the relationship between Jamie and Brianna. Maybe because I already felt detached from Brianna, or because they looked so similar. "Brianna."

"He is willing to part with her to a better place."

"But if we couldn't get back through the stones. If it doesn't work." I suggested. "Will he be expecting visitation? It wouldn't be fair to separate them now."

"I do not appreciate the tone." He informed me coolly.

"It is difficult to believe your story." I reminded.

"So you had sex with him." Frank suddenly snapped. "And?"

"And?"

"And how was it?"

"What sort of a question is that?"

"Did you remember him?" Frank inquired. "Do you... Did you fall in love with him again?"

"No." I snapped. "No, I told him that I chose you."

"W-what?" The light in Franks eyes was enough to make me smile. "You...?"

"Yes." I closed the distance between us and kissed him. It felt strange, but that was likely due to the betrayal I _still_ felt. I could pretend I'd forgiven him, but it was easier said than done. "I chose you."

"And he accepted this?"

"He seemed a bit mad,"

He smirked at this and hugged me, "He lost the best wife a man could ask for."

I pushed him away then, "Don't talk like that please." Denying the story Frank told me was the easiest way to move forward as we needed to. How could I move on with such an accusation holding me down?

As much as Brianna and Jamie may have looked alike, Jamie couldn't be her father. Because it didn't make any sense other than their appearance. Why wouldn't he have said something? Why would he let his wife forget him? Plus, this was Franks story, not Jamie's. I'd heard Jamie's story. They'd left to another country not another time.

"I wish to return home." Frank told me. "My desk is waiting for me, but if time in linear then they will replace me soon after the realize we have disappeared. I accepted the post and the uniform because it will allow us to travel quicker and through towns without difficulty. Tavern keeps will be expected to grant us stay."

"Alright." I nodded. "Then let's not spend another day sleeping in the woods. Let's find our way to civilization."

By the time Brianna and Jamie returned, we'd packed up the entire camp and prepared the two horses to pull the cart.

I saw the fury appear in Jamie's eyes the moment he noticed Frank standing by the carriage, so I stepped in front of Frank to shield him, and picked up Brianna for a hug to block Jamie from getting any closer. He understood my actions instantly and very clearly didn't appreciate it.

I wanted to tell him about what Frank had told me. To finally get both sides of a story, and get verification that the story was crazy. Or maybe I didn't. Because being lied to one more time could be one more too many. Telling him was too hard, and too embarrassing. And then he would likely think I was a witch for believing in time travel. No, for now I would remain quiet. I got into the carriage with Frank and Brianna, and let Jamie lead us the rest of the way.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back as I let the confusing, frustrating, and all around angry thoughts cool down in my mind.

* * *

 **I haven't actually gotten all that "fangirl" over my own story yet, but I think this next chapter might do it for me. If you have enjoyed this story so far (thank you!:)) then you are probably going to adore this next chapter. If you haven't, (I'm sorry), and thank you for reading. But this next chapter has me excited... just... I'm excited.**

 **P.S. If you haven't read the books, (small spoiler of what's to come ahead), and for those who simply don't know (I didn't when I first read the books),** **Laoghaire** **is pronounced Leary. (Leer-y)**


	13. Laoghaire

**Chapter 13**

 _ **Laoghaire**_

.

Frank had certainly not been pleased about my confession, but he did not bother me more about it. After our first night in a tavern, I was sure we might have truly moved on to our new life.

Despite my internal desire to remain in these _simpler_ times, I had not voiced a complaint about returning to the future.

And Jamie was distant and cold, but I suppose I preferred that to him trying to destroy my marriage. On our way north Frank suddenly appeared to have a black eye and a busted nose. I assumed Jamie was the cause but Frank never told me and refused to let me get involved past fixing his nose and working to reduce the swelling.

"We need a new wheel." Jamie informed us when we exited the carriage after it stopped suddenly just outside a small town.

"It's a wooden wheel, what could be wrong with it?" Frank demanded. He was growing tired of all the delays.

"It has a chip which stops it from turning properly." Jamie answered.

"If we need a wheel, we can simply go buy one, can we not?" I really enjoyed living in these times, knowing that money would not matter in five days when we disappeared forever. We could put Johnathon Randall in as much dept as we wanted, he was dead.

"Aye, we can." Jamie answered. He paused then, and said, "I'll go myself into town. I canna imagine many people will be too pleased to see a British officer. They might just decide they didn't hear about the invention of the wheel. Then they can't help us."

"Can I go with you, padre Jamie?" Brianna wondered hopefully. She'd been stuck with us in the carriage for a couple hours and needed the fresh air. Frank despised her calling Jamie p _adre_ , but according to him, the name worked.

"Aye, if it is okay with your mother." He nodded.

"Alright." I nodded.

"Behave yourself." Frank ordered and Brianna raced to take Jamie's hand and follow him towards town.

"Now what?"

"We wait, I suppose." He mumbled.

"Is the past everything you thought it would be?" I wondered, simply to make conversation.

We sat in the sunny grass and watched the horses eat while I listened to him talk about what excited him and what disappointed him about being here. All of his worries and hopes.

This continued for an hour until a small blob of red hair pocked over us.

"Hello, pumpkin." Frank mused, smiling.

"Daddy, you need to leave." She said.

"What?" I asked.

"Jamie says you need to leave." Brianna continued. I was about to complain until she added, "He says the girl won't help us if she sees him. She doesn't like Johnathon Randall."

"What girl?" Frank wondered, sitting up.

"The girl with the wheel." Brianna answered. "He said to continue following the path for thirty minutes and we will pick you up when we pass you."

"This doesn't seem safe." I noted.

"It is quite alright." Frank mused. "So long as we are getting the help we need, I don't much care if I am present. Besides, I'm getting used to my ancestor creating problems for me."

"Alright." I decided, kissing him once as he stood up. "But stay on the main road and be careful."

"Of course." He grinned, walking urgently away.

"Mommy, she is so nice. And she thinks padre is cute, you can tell when she looks at him. And I think they're friends. I like her." She babbled.

"Yes, darling, that is wonderful." I smiled, looking back down the road but Frank was out of sight. "Hm."

"I ran as fast as I could to tell you." Brianna continued as Jamie came into view over a small field with a young girl by his side.

I stood as she approached. She was very pretty, no more than twenty, and wore a very simple dress. Her hair was an off-auburn blonde colour and her eyes were greener than the grass. "Hello," The girl smiled at Claire as she approached. "You must be Claire."

"Hello." I smiled politely.

"Your beautiful daughter has told me a lot about you." The girl continued. She had a very strong Scottish accent.

"This is Ansa." Jamie introduced. "She lived in Lallybroch before getting married."

"My husband owns the blacksmith." She explained. "It would be an honour to help you and yer husband be on yer way again."

"I cannot say we deserve such kind words." I smiled bashfully. "But thank you."

"Could the horses pull the carriage closer to town?" Ansa wondered. "So my husband could measure properly?"

Although the question surprised me, I didn't speak any concerns. "Aye, it can." Jamie said. "But no much further."

"I can drive it back, but there canna be too much weight on it, ye ken?" She asked.

"Oh!' Brianna whimpered throwing her hand into the air. "Can I come, can I come! I know how to drive, padre taught me."

"I bet his did, lass." She smiled. "Alright, ye seem light enough, so long as yer parents no mind."

"It's fine." I answered.

"Ah, thank ye, lady Claire." The girl smiled bubbly at me, glance once more anxiously at Jamie, then turned happily turned with Brie back to the carriage.

"Does she think I am your wife?" I wondered in almost a skeptical tone. I did not mind adding one more lie to our charade, but this one seemed a little close to home. I had finally convinced Frank to stop the "Jamie Fraser is your husband now" game, I really wasn't sure I was all that comfortable with Jamie playing it.

"T'is her own assumption." He explained. "No mine."

"You know," I began, casually. I thought I was trying to make small talk, but perhaps I was finally curious enough to mention Franks claim. We started walked together behind the slow moving carriage. "Frank mentioned something similar, the other day."

"Did he now." He replied, sounding like he'd disconnected.

I paused for a moment after replaying my words in my head ten times. "You're not surprised... or curious, that I called him Frank?"

"Ye have done it a few times." He replied.

"Do you want to know why?" I wondered.

"I ken why." He answered, and for a moment I thought my heart had stopped. He looked at me then and smirked. "Yer man is much too focused on you to be the real Black Jack Randall. And no amount of time, or love, could fix all that is wrong with him."

"Why haven't you told anyone?" I wondered.

"I'm happy Randall is dead." He answered. "Whether _Frank_ looks like him or no. And it has gotten me what I wanted. For the most part, anyways."

"Your freedom." I assumed. He didn't answer so I continued, "Frank, as I was trying to tell him I forgave him, kept telling me this story. About... before Brianna was born."

I was going to say time travel but I didn't want to overwhelm him, or risk him calling me a witch.

"He even said you were my husband." I continued, feeling my face heat as the ridiculous idea was admitted.

"He did?" His head popped up and he looked at me curiously.

I laughed once myself. "Yes."

"Did ye believe him?" He wondered, almost excitedly.

"Of course not!" I snapped through my awkward laughs. "The idea is preposterous. But at least I have the truth from you now."

"Do ye?" He wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"What if he wassna lying?"

"The idea is outrageous!" I scoffed, more at the thought than at him. "Not to mention impossible."

"As impossible as traveling through time." He mumbled.

"What was that?" I breathed.

"Oh, aye, I know of that." He explained, a little too causally. "Unless you've managed to hide all these years, in which case I have a few words for ye."

"Did Frank tell you to say that?" I demanded, feeling a little annoyed that this was continuing.

"No." He answered. "You did."

"When?" I inquired hotly.

"About... nine years ago? Ten?"

I laughed at that idea.

"Aye, and what Frank told ye was true. We were married, still are, technically."

"You expect me to believe that I traveled back in time, married you, then went back to the future." I snapped but found it mostly odd that he was acting so casually during this conversation.

"I dinna ken what you believe, but how did you all get here?"

I paused at that question, but refused to answer.

"Why wouldn't you mention to me that we were married?" I inquired.

"I didn't believe you were real at first." He answered. "An angel, a spirit, or a curse, but I cared not because I could finally hear your voice again. Then you started babbling on about your amnesia non-sense and introduced me to your husband, and I became a little confused."

"You didn't tell me after." I reminded.

"Aye, but would ye have believed me? No. You'd think I were mad, but I considered it often. Then your husband asked me not to tell and for Brianna, I thought it best not to."

"For Brianna." I repeated.

"If it had only been you, I'd have taken you instantly. Damn with the consequences. But the bairn complicated things."

"I am pleased you didn't." I mumbled in annoyance.

"But I am glad he told you finally, because woman, in the years we spent together, you never made me as angry as you have these last few weeks!" his voice was getting louder and more animated. "Damn near wanted to beat you a few times! You chose a man who betrayed you, who hurt you, and made you so unhappy over yer own damn husband! Even _after_ ye ken you had the option! You dumb woman, you... _fucking imbecile_!" I turned to slap him but he caught my hands. We were done walking, then, letting the carriage get away from us as he held my hands to the side of my body with a painful grip.

"For the past eight years I've no but burned for ye, and I have been a good man to ye, Claire, both in marriage and in friendship. I even allowed for you and _Frank_ to continue your charade because it meant I could keep ye closer. I didna mind this much because I thought maybe he made you happy, but he doesna and didna, and yet you choose to stay with him!" He was yelling now. "I am no but your husband, the father of yer child, and you forgot about me, Claire. Like I was nothing! Like everything I have ever done for you was nothing! Like our lives and children meant nothing to you, vile woman, how I have tried so hard to hate you and I just... canna." He looked down at his feet but his hands didn't move.

"Do ye even remember her?" He asked in a voice so small it shook me from the inside.

"Who?"

"Faith."

"Who?"

His grip on my arms tightened and his face winced in pain. He took a deep breath, though, and shook his head. "You asked why I didna tell ye, Claire... It is because I was afraid. Afraid of you choosing him over me... Afraid... that... no that you wouldn't remember me, but that ye would and ye wouldna want me anymore. You chose to stay with another man and _god_ how I want to kill ye for it, but I am so glad to have you in my hands once more. Still, after everything you've done, I canna fully hate you. I keep telling Frank that I'm letting you go fer yer own good, but I'm not. You're leaving me on yer own... again!"

"I haven't done anything to you, Jamie." I told him as calmly as I could. "I am sorry. But even if what you're saying is true, I have to honour my husband and family."

" _I AM YER HUSBAND, CLAIRE!"_ He shouted, shaking me. "And that is _my_ daughter!"

"I don't remember you, though!" I tried. "You're just a man I met and felt momentarily drawn to! I'm sorry that I led you on! I was angry at Frank and I shouldn't have involved you."

"I will make you remember me, then." He snapped, pulling me closer and forcing his lips on mine. This kiss was hot and angry and desperate. It did not feel like the same tempting, irresistible kisses he'd given me before. This was cold, and void of affection.

"We've done this, remember." I told him quickly when he finally broke for air. "I still don't remember."

"Then I will need to try harder." He determined.

"You hurt me, James Fraser, and you will _never_ see your daughter again!" I am not sure what created the angry comment but he released my arms instantly and took a step back, still glaring at me.

I almost expected him to apologize for being so rough like he always did before. This time, he didn't.

"I don't remember you! And other than a few moments of lust, I feel nothing for you!" I snapped, feeling like I was nearing tears. "I'm sorry! But I can't change that."

I turned then and started marching in the direction of the carriage, with Jamie silent right on my heels.

* * *

The town was much smaller than the ones I'd seen in London, and in areas around London. Farms outlined the small wood and stone built city, which seemed to have a absolute height max of three stories.

I was seething anger as we marched in the town. Jamie and I had said few words to one another, but they were all said with anger. Sometimes he would attack first, and sometimes I would. Often I would call him a brute or a fool, while he would call me a loveless witch or a whoring wench. We were civil outside of that, though.

Our was the only carriage in town so it was fairly easy to find. Brianna continued to sit in the front seat, but Ansa was gone. So were one of the wheels.

"I'll go inside to pay." Jamie decided before we had even reached the front door. I was in no mood to argue.

"How was your trip darling?" I asked Brianna as I approached her.

"It was fun." Brianna smiled. "Ansa is nice. She says you healed her brother once when they were younger. Do you remember that?"

I thought my heart might have just stopped but I maintained my composure. "I can not say I do."

"I'm going to go see Jamie." She decided, sliding off the other side of the carriage.

"No, Brie, wait!" I tried but she'd already run inside yelling "Padre!"

I groaned, but followed into the store, hoping Jamie could be mature enough to act civil in front of Brianna.

When I walked in the store, I smelt a familiar, and welcoming aroma, but I wasn't sure why I knew it. And I watched Jamie pick up Brianna as he spoke to a young blonde lady. She reached out her hands and Jamie offered her one of his, the one not holding Brianna. The girl wrapped her hands around his in an almost intimate way and she spoke about it being so lovely to see him again. The lady smiled until she looked at me.

And I think my world shattered.

"You?!" She demanded.

"Laoghaire." I breathed and felt the anger I had already been feeling multiply by a thousand. And it was like a damn of unacknowledged emotions came flooding through my brain all in that single moment. Laoghaire. The girl who'd tried to kill me. Who'd had me sent to a witch trail. The girl who was, right now, holding my husbands hand. My husband... "What the hell are you doing here?"

I marched angrily, only because I refused to lose face in front of her, towards Jamie, who stiffened upon my arrival.

"I thought you were dead." She snapped.

"Well, it is a good thing no one pays you to think." I muttered, grabbing Jamies wrist, not as a possessive or angry movement, but simply because I felt so dizzy. No explicit images were returning to my mind, but emotions and feelings. Thoughts touching on memories but skimming themselves just shy of becoming reminders.

"Jamie." I breathed. _Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie_. And for a few moments I forgot Frank existed. "Jamie." I continued with more force now. My voice almost desperate.

"Claire?" He sounded less angry, and more concerned, putting Brie down so he could grab me by both shoulders and hold me up.

"Mama?" Brie asked.

"My God." I breathed, feeling every few seconds a new wave of dizziness alongside a feeling that hid me like a speeding train. "Jamie, pl..."

"I've got ye, Claire." He promised, continuing to hold me arms length apart, but that's not what I wanted right now.

I pushed his hands down, stopping him for a moment. I think he was preparing to be angry again when I stepped forward and threw my arms around him. I pressed my face into his shoulder and felt him hesitantly wrap his arms around me.

"Are ye ill, Claire?" He asked.

"Oh, this is ridiculous." Laoghaire groaned. "Ye canna stand on yer own now, lass?"

"Leave her be." Jamie snapped at Laoghaire.

He then scooped an arm under my leg, "I will be back in a moment." He called towards the back room. Then carried me out to the carriage with Brianna close on his heels.

"Jamie." I breathed, my heart swelling at the sight of him, though his face was a fuzzy mess in that moment. Trying to remain conscious was a difficult task. I could not focus on where I was, nor could I clearly remember how I'd gotten there. My mind was too busy overwhelming itself with data I couldn't process fast enough. My actions and words were pure instinct.

"I am here, Claire." He answered. I could feel that he had lain me down, and I could sense his proximity, but I wasn't sure where I was.

"My Jamie." I breathed.

I felt his body go still.

"Claire?" He asked.

"I'm so sorry, Jamie." I breathed. Swirls of colours and numbing emotion filled my head and would not let me focus. I couldn't tell if I could feel my fingers or my toes.

"No, no, don't be sorry. Claire, what is wrong?" Jamie asked in a near panic.

"I love you." I breathed, too busy trying to sort through the chaos in my mind.

"Claire?!"

And then it all went dark.

* * *

 **I hope you've enjoyed so far. This chapter was meant to be a bit longer but I thought this would be a good place to end it. I will hopefully have an update by the end of the day! :)**


	14. Recollection

**Chapter 14**

 ** _Recollection_**

 _ **.**_

He sat in a chair he'd pulled beside her bed. He wished he could have been as calm and controlled as he was in most situations, but the emotional stress of this once strained on him. Why had she said his name like that? Like she...? He refused to consider it and once more fall victim to the games played by hope.

He'd carried her quickly to the nearest healer who had informed him that she had a fever and needed rest. So he'd gotten a room at the local tavern and sent Brianna to play with Marley and June, or whatever Laoghaire had named her daughters, he really hadn't cared to listen closer. His priority had been carried through town in his arms until he could lay her comfortably in a bed. Once he had her there, and the healer had given him a guarantee that she would wake up, Jamie had been able to calm himself. Laoghaire's daughters were a couple years younger than Brianna but Brie didn't seem to mind.

It had taken him a few minutes of watching Claire sleep, and internally debating what had occurred, before he remembered Frank waiting on the side of the road.

 _Leave him_ , he thought at first, but neither Claire nor Brianna would like that very much so he had sent a messenger to find the "redcoat on the road". The messenger had returned only an hour later claiming to have found no one. _I tried,_ Jamie thought but did feel guilt for not helping more. Although the small sense if guilt seemed to linger, it was easily suppressible. Jamie didn't want to feel bad for Frank, and no amount of honour could change that.

He kept his face in his hands, occasionally looking up to watch her sleep, as if her expression would give any indication as to when she might wake up. This time it did. Her face scrunched into a slight expression of annoyance and discomfort before she groaned and rolled slightly.

Jamie jumped into action as if she'd called for him, but froze at the idea of grabbing her. He didn't want to force himself on her, no matter how tempting.

"Jamie." She moaned.

"Claire!" He looked up and saw her eyes opened weakly onto her. "Are ye alright?"

"Where am I?" She wondered tiredly.

"It doesna matter . What matters is ye are safe."

"Where are we?" She continued, looking curiously and fearfully around the room.

"A hotel." He answered shortly. "Dinna fesh yerself over that, lass."

"Where's Brianna?"

"She's outside playing with Laoghaire's lassies."

"What?!" That seemed to wake her up. She sat up in a cool panic with wild, angry eyes. She sat started to get up but he stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder.

"You need to rest."

"I need to get my daughter."

"She is fine, Claire!" He snapped gently. "The doctor wants you to stay in bed."

"Then get my daughter away from them."

"She is safe, Sassanach, and it is better for her to be playing with other children rather than watching her mother sleep, not knowing if she'll wake."

"I'm fine! I do not want my daughter associating with that family!" She snapped, "James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser, go get my daughter!"

"Fine!" Jamie decided only because he'd decided this wasn't a fight worth fighting. He hesitated before exiting the small room, though, and asked, "Do... do ye re-"

"Christ, Jamie, please!"

"Alright." He surrendered turning back towards the door. He felt the hope he'd been feeling after her remembering Laoghaire rip through his soul as the painful reality forced it away. He was once more heart broken and angry. Although he knew he shouldn't be, he was angry at Claire, and at himself, for the hope that had burned so hot as it was ripped from him.

"Wait!" He froze and tried to suppress the unwelcome hope he felt once more. "Jamie,"

It was difficult for him to turn back towards her. He didn't know what she would say, or how she would look at him, and he feared finding out.

Her hand was stretched out towards him as if to pull him back to her, and like the desperate fool he knew he was, he slowly returned to the side of her bed.

"Jamie," She repeated taking his wrist when he was close enough.

"Claire." He wasn't sure that he could hear his own voice. Her eyebrows turned upwards and a smile tried to form on her pained face. He let her hands slowly pull him closer until he was leaning over the bed, then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"My god, Jamie." Her voice broke as she spoke. "It's you."

His arms wrapped around her then. The heartbreak and disappointments seeming to vanish as they held one another again.

"I thought you were dead." She breathed. His arms tightened around her and he sat down on the bed before pulling her onto his lap. His face pressed down into her shoulder and he felt a tear fall from his eyes. He hadn't even noticed his eyes beginning to burn or his body begin to tremble as it did then.

"You remember me." He choked into her shift covered skin. "You do."

"Of course I do." She laughed a little awkwardly; her arms tightening around him.

"You remember everything?" he asked looking up with tear stained cheeks.

She smiled and lightly kissed the tears off his skin before kissing his mouth.

"Not everything." She answered. "But enough."

"Do you remember the past few weeks?" He wondered, curious and unsure how the amnesia would work.

"Yes." She nodded, "That I remember very clearly."

"Do... did...?" Jamie couldn't think of what he meant to ask. He wanted to know if she remembered that they'd been married. That she'd once loved him. She wanted to know if she still loved him.

As if her mind had mirrored his, she asked, "Do you still love me?"

He choked out a small laugh, shook his head once in amusement, then took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Rolling over, he sprawled her out along the bed to lay over her, continuing to kiss her.

"I have only ever loved you." He answered after a few moments. "Tell me, my Sassanach, what do ye remember?"

She smiled sadly, kiss him once and lay her head back onto the bed to examine his face. Her fingers began tracing the lines of his face softly as she appreciated his appearance for the first time since their terribly unfitting reunion.

"I remember..." She breathed. "Mostly shapes and colours and ideas. Very few full memories, but I know what I know."

"What do you know?"

"I know I traveled through time... twice... three times. I know I met you after a terrible encounter with Jack Randall. And I know I fell in love with you... so deeply." He smiled when she said this. It was a smile of relief but it was shortly followed by a wave of fear at what else she might remember after leaving him. Had she preferred the future or her life with Frank? Had she regretted being with him? "I know you sent me back for Brianna. I... I thought you were dead."

She put a hand on his cheek and smiled, but the smile was sad and desperate.

"But here you are."

"Here I am." He agreed with a small smile of relief. His eyes drank her in as if they'd been starving and could only see food through a panel of glass. Now the glass was gone and they could feast. "I have missed you everyday you were gone."

They lay in each others embrace for about an hour. Rarely they spoke but when they did it was only of how much they missed the other. And the hour concluded with them taking each other once more, finally both appreciating it fully. They did not last long. Only long enough to ravish the body of the other and reclaim them properly. Their actions were hot, rough, and deprived of every emotion other than carnal need.

"I am your husband, Claire." Jamie told her as he tightened his hold on her naked body cradled tight on his bare chest.

"Yes, you are." She smiled blissfully, kissing his chest.

"I willna share you anymore." He continued.

That brought her back to the reality of their situation. "Frank." She breathed.

"I must know now, Claire, who do you chose?" Jamie demanded.

She could not answer only because she was too far lost in the slowly reemerging memories. She'd been concerned of his infidelity, only because she thought she still loved him. But she didn't- -not the same way anyways. She loved him as a friend, a partner, and a father to Brie. But her husband, the love of her life, was in her arms and she wasn't sure she could be strong enough to leave him once more.

Jamie took her silence as uncertainty. She was uncertain, yes, but not as to her devotion to Jamie. She didn't know how she was supposed to explain to Brianna. She wasn't sure how Frank would respond to her desire to stay in the 17th century _with_ Brianna.

"You are my wife, Claire." Jamie hissed through his teeth with a fiery anger that she missed enough that it made her loins burn. She couldn't voice an argument through the frozen state her mind had trapped her in. "Mine, and I have been kind and I have been patient. I have let the man who looks like my enemy- -the same blood as my enemy- -take you and my daughter. But now you remember she is mine, I do not fear stating my claim to her. No one will doubt that she is mine when they take only one look at her. I dinna mean to threaten ye, Claire, but I am not losing my daughter again. And I am not losing you."

"No you are not." She answered calmly, surprising him. "I have lived ten years without you, Jamie. I will not do that again."

Tears started forming in his eyes again but this time he tried to shake them away. She sat over his bare lap and rested her hands on his chest, rubbing his skin softly. "I won't leave you again. Ever. And you cannot make me."

"I will never ask you to again." He vowed, taking her hips in his hand and lifting his face to her bare chest. She moaned at the light but sharp feeling of his teeth clasping around her nipple.

"Jamie." She whimpered feeling herself instantly become wetter. He grinned in knowing anticipation as he started to move her hips lower over his so that he could tease her with his dick. "Jamie, we need to talk about this."

"You are mine, and I am yours." He explained. "That is your talk."

"But to Brianna," She moaned, trying to let her mind focus. "To Brianna, Frank is her father. He has been there since the day she was born... it wouldn't be fair to either of them..."

"What wouldn't?" He snapped, removing his face from her breasts to see her eyes.

"Frank wants to go home."

"Let him."

"But..."

"But nothing!" Jamie snapped, rolling her onto her back and roughly pushing himself between her legs and inside her as if making his claim to her body once more as his territory. He did not move his hips despite entering her as he continued to rant; "You are _my_ wife, and she is _my_ daughter, and you have both finally returned to me! I have made my share of sacrifices! I have fought in wars for ye, Claire, I have given my body to the man who scared my back, and I have let that man live despite that so your old husband could live- -even though he didn't sire that bloodline- -I have surrendered my life for ye Claire, and my family, and my freedom, and I have returned you to a man who made you feel _insufficient,_ when I was willing to love you forever, and do, and I have lived ten years not knowing if you or my bairn were alive or safe, and I have finally met her, and I finally have you once more. I have done my share of suffering. I have made my sacrifices, Claire, for you. I do not ask for anything in return. I do not complain, and I love you still, but I will suffer no longer! If he wants you and my bairn in his life, it is his time to make the sacrifice. If he can accept that you are mine, not his, and accept that our daughter will live with us, and he can accept that he must remain in this time, then he can continue to see Brianna. If he is not willing to make the sacrifice, _he is not worth your time to worry for._ "

Then his hips were moving fast and without mercy and he took out his weeks of frustration on her in that moment. She did not mind because she was just as angry and frustrated. She repaid his heavy thrusts with claw marks and bites. Not with the intention of leaving his skin marked, but with the intention of reminding him that he was hers and that wouldn't change.

The image of Laoghaire in the shop drove her to a new level of anger and jealousy. Had he known she was there? Was she some sort of revenge for him? She'd chosen Frank so he would choose Laoghaire? Claire dug her fingers deeper into his shoulder and back, causing him to let out a groan of pain.

Now her daughter was playing with Laoghaire's daughters. How was Claire supposed to believe Laoghaire wouldn't try to poison Brianna? The thought made her want to get up to check on her child, but Jamie pinned her back into the bed and deepened his thrusts. Claire let her head fall back as forgotten memories of her daughters life flooded into her mind. It probably was not the best time to be thinking of her daughter and... Faith... She suddenly remembered the name Jamie had mentioned so painfully before. Her heart broke once more as the forgotten agony reached her again.

Tears began slipping from her eyes so she hugged herself to Jamie's shoulders as if his proximity could remove the pain. It only reminded her of where he had been while she suffered the loss of her baby alone with her friend in Paris.

 _No_ , she thought, pushing away the dwelling anger, _No, I had forgiven him_.

Now he was here, and that was what mattered.

When he finally found his release deep inside her, she felt him grow heavier on top of her as he let his body weight relax, never removing himself from her.

"You're going to squish me." She warned.

He set himself very lightly onto his knees so he was just high enough to let her breathe. Then on of his hands went between their bodies, between her legs, and began playing with the skin around her entrance. He did not remove himself as he toyed with her skin waiting for her to join him in his release. When he could tell she was close, he began moving his hips deep and slow as he kissed her face and jaw, and nibbled on her neck.

She called his name when she was finally done, and let him roll off her without complaint.

"Of everything I want you to remember, Sassanach," He breathed, pulling her onto his chest so he could hug her, "Remember that you are mine."

* * *

 **Sorry to update so late! I got busy with family and wasn't able to write. Hope you have enjoyed so far and I will hopefully update very soon! :)**


	15. Frank

**Chapter 15**

 _ **Frank**_

 _ **.**_

It took me longer than I would have liked to admit to finally ask, "Where is Frank?"

Jamie was half asleep on his stomach, one arm under his head and one wrapped around my waist as if to ensure I wouldn't run away. I was running my fingers over the deep lines of the scars on his back when I remembered where he got them and who gave them to him. I remembered seeing him be flogged by the men at the camp during Culloden, and I remembered my anger at Frank when I first returned to the 20th century because he looked so much like his twisted legal ancestor.

"Hm?"

"Frank."

"Oh... I sent a boy to find him. He wasn't on the road where he was meant to be."

"Well, we need to find him." I determined sitting up. I was sore between the legs but it was a painful sting I happily welcomed. It reminded me of him.

"He will be fine, Sassanach."

"We need to go get him, Jamie. And Brianna."

He made a deep noise at the back of this throat but looked up with a face full of bushy hair.

"Ech, the doctor says ye should stay in bed, Claire."

"I am a doctor and I say I'm fine." I determined standing to pull on my shift.

"Can we make a deal then, Sassanach?" He wondered.

"What sort of deal?" There was a cold expression on his face and a look he tried hard to hide. I felt like the expression should have been one I recognized easily, but my mind was still too much of a mess to remember anything specific.

"We go find Frank, bring him back, but when we return, you must tell me everything I have missed in your life. I dinna want to feel you are a stranger to me any longer."

I smiled effortlessly at the request and nodded my head. "Of course."

He smiled a little and rolled sluggishly onto his back. It took him just a little longer than it took me to dress before we left the comfort of our hotel room. Although I did not know the way to find Brianna, I marched a step in front of him, refusing to leave her to that awful woman for one moment longer than necessary.

"She's in no danger." Jamie spoke over my shoulder.

"I will believe you when I see her." I informed him sharply.

She was in a small bakery next to the hotel. Luckily for me, Laoghaire was not around. I was not in the mood for another meeting with her so soon, though I was suddenly riddled with questions towards Jamie as to how well maintained their friendship still was. I hadn't met the elderly woman baking with Brianna, but she was pleasantly excited at our arrival.

"Are you feeling better mistress?" She inquired happily.

"I am." I nodded. "Thank you very much for watching Bree."

"It was no trouble, the lass is a darling."

"Can I stay for a little longer?!" Bree begged.

I hesitated, but after a couple glances between my daughter and her father. Jamie appeared to support the idea of Brianna staying, but I wanted her with me... if for no other reason than as a buffer between myself, Jamie, and Frank.

I sighed and nodded at Jamie who smiled at me joyfully in response.

"Aye, lassie." Jamie had not been excited to be away from Brianna since he'd met her, so I couldn't fully understand the bubbling joy behind his eyes. "We will be back for ye shortly."

"Oh, thank you!" She squealed happily, jumping a few times before readily returning to the woman who was surprised but not unwelcoming.

"Should we go, Sassanach?" Jamie wondered as he offered me his bent arm. I accepted this, wrapping my hand around him lightly and offering my daughter one last goodbye as we left.

"I'm sorry." I told him after we'd walked away from the buildings making up the small town. We could have taken horses or a carriage, but I had not voiced a preference for either since I did not want to waste a single moment alone with him. Especially not a moment not troubled by the reality our situation held. Once we reached Frank, I would be forced to vocalize a choice I'd never really been given... Not one I couldn't hide from, anyways.

"What for?" He asked.

"I'm sorry that I forgot you. Before my accident, I never did. I never put you behind me, and I never tried."

He pulled me closer to him then, and smiled. "Now that I have ye back, it is almost like the other years dinna matter. Of course, I am sorry that I coulnda see Brianna at birth, nor could I teach her to walk or talk, or help you raise her, but I know her now and that is the part that matters."

"Did you mean what you said?"

"What did I say?"

"When we were walking to town... About why you didn't tell me... How... I never meant to anger you, Jamie."

He turned to me then and examined my face curiously.

"I dinna lie to ye, lass." He told me finally, touching my face lightly. "No about my anger, and no about letting you forget me if you were happiest that way. But you were not happy, Claire. I could see that as clear as you could."

"Frank is a good man." I said in his defense.

"A man I let live only because it suited me." I don't know if he was joking. His voice was almost a violent snarl. "I have no forgiven ye yet, either, Sassanach. I can let your mind rest, and I can bathe in the knowledge you now remember me... you love me."

"I do." I agreed and it seemed to calm him down marginally.

"But I canna forget that ye left me, Claire. For a man you can hardly stand."

" _I left you_?!" I hollered in disbelief. "I _never_ would have left if _you_ hadn't _made_ me! And Frank is a good man! I was angry because I couldn't understand why I would have let him be with other women but-"

"No good man finds his pleasure with a woman who is not his wife." He hissed at me, grabbing my shoulders almost painfully.

"I didn't want him!" I snapped. "I only wanted you! He was a good partner to raise Brianna with, if he wanted to be with someone else, all the better for him!"

He muttered something angrily in Gaelic while shaking his head, then turned back to me. "This doesna change anything...! Do you plan on being my wife again?"

I paused then because I could not answer.

"Claire, do ye?" He demanded and I had to step away from him so that his fingers did not bruise me.

"I don't know." I answered slowly after a few moments.

He let out a sound of defeat and took a few steps in a small circle, placing his hand on his head as if I'd given him a migraine. When he finally looked at me again, his face was painted in a deep scowl and his eyes burned with fury. " _You are mine, Claire_!" He shouted loudly. "I have suffered every type of hell for ye, and I dinna regret a moment of it, but _you are mine_! I willna return to a life without you in it! Especially now that I have you, and my daughter, back!"

"It is not that simple." I tried.

"IT IS THAT SIMPLE!" He shouted grabbing me once more by the arms. I understood his anger, though, and I felt it also. At everything; at the world, at the war, at time for playing this cruel joke on us. "You are my wife, in both the eyes of god and the law's of man! And if it must come to claiming ye by legal force, damn ye Claire but I will do that!"

"I thought you told Frank you'd let us leave if it was what we wanted."

"Aye, and I vowed to kill him if he ever did wrong by you. I dinna mind fulfilling that vow either."

"I don't want to leave you, Jamie." I assured him.

"But you're planning to leave me... again."

"No, but I also can't promise you anything." I tried. "It's not as simple as what I want."

"Aye, it is that simple, Claire." He snapped. "I have been made to endure the torment of breaking bread with the man who haunted my nightmares. The man who caused me only pain and who took from me my wife and child. You asked if I meant what I'd said, aye, I did, every word. I tried hard to hate you. I canna. No matter how much you hurt me, Sassanach, I am yours. But I have hated him. Everyday since the witch trials... the first day I learned he still lived, I have hated every piece of him. I tried to be a good man, I still do. But I am also not the man to give ye up without a fight."

"I have to think of our daughter." I noted, ignoring his hands as they continued to hold me by the arms.

" _Our_ daughter."

"You said you wanted her to have a better life!" I reminded. "A safer life! Can you truly be angry knowing she has grown up healthy and smart, and independent. That there is a place for her where she can be safe and comfortable?"

"Aye, I am angry." He acknowledged. "I willna deny it. And I wasna lying either, when I told you I'd have taken you. If not for Brianna."

He led me forcefully backwards until we reached a nearby tree. The town was far enough way now that I wasn't completely concerned about by passers, but this could hardly be considered private. The road was close but not his priority in the moment.

He pressed me against the tree, weighing himself down on me mostly by his hips.

"I'd have taken you as mine once more, no caring whether you wanted me or no." He kissed me hard on the lips and I felt myself melt into him, willingly accepting the embrace of his lips until he pulled away. "You are mine, mo nighean donn, and I didn't plan on letting you forget that. I'd have pinned ye, as I am now."

I tried to push him off me a little, more to give myself the space to breathe than an actual desire to be separated from him. His weight made him difficult to move. His strength and determination to stay in one spot made it impossible.

"No, Sassanach," He purred as if to use my small attempt as evidence to what he was saying, "I would not let you leave me again. I'd have kept you like I have you now," He slowly moved his hips against me as if to display what he meant. The impact was almost instantaneous for me, especially as I felt him start to grow under his kilt. He lowered himself slightly, only to reach my knee, and started pulling up my skirts so he could touch my leg. He moaned then and grinned evilly at me as his fingers began playing slowly and menacingly up my thigh. "I'd have reclaimed yer body as mine, touching every part of you... especially this one." He said as his fingers roughly contacted the wetting skin between my legs.

A moan escaped my lips then and I let my head fall against the tree.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as he straightened up once more to tower over me. My legs closed almost instinctively over his hand, as if they could stop the growing tension being caused by his fingers as the began rubbing the wet folds at the core of my body. He used his knee to break the connection between my legs and to allow himself greater access.

"Aye, Sassanach, I'd have given you good reason to remember how much you wanted me. How readily your body would accept me, like it is now. Already prepared... But I'd have not let ye finish until you remembered how much you needed me... How much you wanted me with you... next to you... inside you..." His fingers pushed harder on my core, shying away just before they entered me so they could continue to play with me. Occasionally he'd dip the tip of a finger inside me, almost as if he were ready to finally take me, but he didn't. "Like yer body wants me now, does it not?"

"Yes." I breathed, wanting him to stop playing so I could have my release. "Please, Jamie."

"Aye, Claire..." He breathed, his lips hovering over mine. I reached up to kiss him but he pulled away just enough to keep me wanting. My heart beat fast as my entire body became putty in his hands. I tried to imagine him taking me as he promised, if I still didn't remember him... How well would I have received this? I wanted to believe I'd have been unhappy, but considering how ready I was for him now, I imagine I wouldn't have put up too much of a fight.

He grinned mischievously down at me as he pressed his erection into my hip as if a reminder of what I already knew I was craving.

"Jamie," I begged breathlessly.

One of his hands moved up to my throat as his thumb traced the skin of my cheek, lips, and jaw line. It became suddenly difficult to breathe as his fingers played around my aching entrance.

"I would have taken ye far from where witnesses could have stopped us, and held you there until you remembered that you _are_ mine." He kissed me then, but only for a moment leaving me wanting more. "I'd have put this burning you have for me now to an end with my cock in you, and made you scream for god until you remembered my name... Claire, how ready you are for me now... I'd have let you burn for me as I have for you. Let you realize that it is me who belongs inside you... ye want me now, don't ye sassanach?"

"Yes, Jamie, I do." I whimpered, wanting him to finish taunting me already.

"I'd have you begging me by the end of it," He purred over my lips, though he never let me kiss him. "Do you doubt that?"

"No." I breathed, "Please, Jamie."

He grinned then and placed a single finger inside me. I felt my body wrap readily around him, tightening over him as if wanting to keep him there forever. I let out a small groan, trying to avoid the attention of anyone on the nearby road who could come around curious if we made too much noise.

"Do ye know what I would do next?" He asked as he slipped another finger inside me.

"What?" I breathed, still attempting to meet his lips as if I had not learned from my past failures that he would continue to taunt me so long as I played into his games.

"I'd take ye." He said, putting both hands down to my thigh's so he could grab me by the back of the knees and lift me so I was perfectly in place over his erection. Then he slid my more than ready body down onto him and began thrusting heavily inside me. My body was being held in place by his body and the tree, so he moved his hands to my ass and began fondling me as he took me, deep and hard. "Because you are mine, mo nighean donn... sassanach... mine, and I will never let you forget that."

I used his momentarily distraction to grab his face with both hands, clawing my fingers into his hair and skin, to pull him to me and finally kiss him. He fought me for a moment but finally surrendered, and allowed our mouths to once more connect us.

I held him tight as her thrust deep inside me, not slowing or changing his pace until he was finished. After he was done, he continued until I followed and let us both fall to the ground. I sat on his lap, while he remained inside me. My skirts covered both our legs, but I am sure it would have been obvious to any bypassers what we were doing.

"Jamie." I cried breathlessly hugging him. His arms wrapped around me then, and I felt both safe and at home for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"I willna lose ye again, Claire." He stated in a hard voice over my shoulder. "I couldna bare it."

"Jamie." This time, I said it almost like a warning. I did not want to think of what would happen when we found Frank. I didn't want to consider the possibility that I would leave him again. To me, leaving him was an impossibility. I hadn't wanted to do it when he'd made me, and I didn't want to do it now. But as he'd said before, Brianna's presence changed things. I couldn't simply abandon my daughter, not even for the man I loved more than life itself. And I couldn't expect her to willingly leave Frank, nor could I demand that Frank leave her. I did not want to promise him anything, because I had nothing I could promise him other than uncertainty. "We need to go find Frank."

He lay me on my back, then, and began once more thrusting deep into me. He was much more gentle now, but his body was as demanding and the intention was clear. "You are mine. I willna let you leave." He reminded me. My head fell back, and although the blind hot passion had nearly disappeared with the explosion in my body, my body accepted him just as eagerly. "You, nor my daughter. To hell with Frank, and to hell with me if that must be my punishment. But I cannot survive again without you."

"Jamie." I moaned letting my head fall back into the sparse grass under the trees. "I am yours." I said it because I knew he needed to hear it in order to continue our search for Frank, and because it was true.

His face fell into the spot between my shoulder and neck, and for a moment I thought he was simply enjoying the rest of his bliss inside my body. When his head lifted again, though, there were tears in his eyes.

"I love you, Claire." He told me, kissing me hard. I returned this kiss, my heart almost breaking at the sight of his crying. I let him finish once more inside me before we stood, cleaned ourselves up somewhat, and continued our journey to the road hand in hand.

I told him, as promised, about everything I could vaguely remember from the time we'd lost together. None of my memories were full, but I had pieces of them. He was patient and understanding of this, despite some of my stories beginning and ending as quickly as, "I remember once when Brianna was young, I took her to a park near our house..."

We walked and talked for what must have been hours, based on the lowering sun. It took us until sunset to realize that we'd walked way too far to still have not found Frank.

"We can get horses in the next town we pass." Jamie suggested. I did not mind the quality time walking with him, and despite the soreness of my legs, I didn't mind continuing. But horses would get us from point A to point B a lot faster.

It must have been ten minutes before we hit a town. While Jamie searched for horses, I asked around in a nearby tavern for anyone who might have seen Frank.

"Aye, I saw him, lass." The large man with a thick beard answered. "Him and a bunch of his red coat friends stopped in here a little while ago. They were on their way north, if I remember correctly."

"What?" I gaped at him in disbelief.

"On their way to Fort William." The lady serving them food and drinks added. "Didn't seem in much of a hurry, though."

"Frank..." I blinked in complete disbelief before turning around, and marching out the tavern door without another word. I needed to find Jamie. And we needed to find Frank before they discovered he was an impostor and executed him.

I found Jamie rather quickly. His red hair was unmistakable and he was larger than the average citizen. He was in the process of giving a man money for two horses.

I waited until the man left with a polite bow, and turned to Jamie. "They have taken Frank to Fort William."

"What could that man have possibly done to end up there?" Jamie wondered, clearly less worried than I was. He helped me mount my horse before mounting his own.

"Not as a prisoner." I clarified, though I felt I shouldn't have to. "They want him to resume control."

"He will be a terrible fit." He assured me. "I wager they will relieve him of his duties in no more than a month."

"The problem is, they will start investigating. And when they realize he is an impostor, they will kill him."

"Undoubtedly."

"We need to free him!"

"Neither of us have good memories at that place, Claire." He snapped. "Frank is a smart man, no? He can get himself out of trouble."

"Jamie, we have to save him." I said more firmly. He gave me a wiry glare so I added in a hard voice, "he is the one who holds your contract, James Fraser. If something happens to him, or if he is forced to act out to save his own facade, you may never gain your freedom. You will be sent back to prison, or back to the Dunsany's."

I could see the wheels turning in his mind so I decided to try and help them.

"If we do not help him, and he gets caught, Brianna and I will have no choice but to return to our time." I reminded him. "If something happens to him, you won't be able to take care of us, and I will be forced to go back to the twentieth century where I can presume my career as a surgeon. If we don't help him, there will be nothing complicating about the decision to stay or go. And I don't want to be forced to leave you for Brianna again."

In reality, I was very sure I could take fine care of Brianna in this time, with or without help from Jamie or Frank. And if I could not on my own, I could always return home to Lallybroch for help from Jenny. But that didn't mean I could leave Frank to the wolves. Even if I didn't love him the same way as I loved Jamie, he was a good man who didn't deserve to die.

After a moment of thought, Jamie groaned loudly and stated, "God damn ye, Claire, have I told you I hated ye today?"

* * *

 **Hey! I know it has been a while, so forgive me for any errors, I was trying to get this chapter finished and posted! I hope you have still been enjoying and that the wait has not been unbearable!**

 **So, IDK how descriptive you all want me to be during sex scenes, or if you'd rather I brushed over the sex and stuck to storyline, or preferred a healthy balance... IDK... Currently I'm trying to be vaguely descriptive so I don't bother people who dislike it, but also interest people who do like it. Please let me know what you want and I can edit the entire story to fit. (Don't worry, not done yet, though I am sorry for taking my time).**

 **I'd love to know what you want out of the story. Do you like the scenes as they are, or would you prefer _detailed_ description (Which I can totally do, but I want to know what my readers want before just springing it on you), or would you prefer I focus on story line? Let me know and I will do my best to accommodate!**

Thank you so much for reading and I will update soon!


	16. Fort William

**Chapter 16**

 _ **Fort William**_

 _ **.**_

Frank had barely been able to sleep in the stiff bed of the apartment that had once housed his ancestor. It was not only his panic for Brianna and Claire that kept him awake. The walls of Fort William felt chilly and unwelcoming. This small suite was offered so he wouldn't have to make the long trip morning and night to the closest village, and he'd accepted only because he feared rejecting would lose him his safety. They'd already seemed skeptical about whether to reinstate or imprison him.

 _One night_ , he thought, and he'd be able to take a carriage back to the town where he'd left his family.

The thought of Claire got him through the sleepless night. She'd chosen him, he reminded himself over and over. She'd had both her husbands once more and she'd chosen to stay with him- -he felt he could not be any happier... yet panic still seized his heart. She was with him now. And now he'd told her the truth, he didn't imagine she would keep silent about it for long.

She wouldn't do anything in front of Brianna, he reminded himself often. Brie was his reassurance that Claire would not forget about him once more. And her memories seemed to have hidden themselves well. If traveling two hundred years into the past, and remeeting your supposed soul mate wasn't enough to get them back, surely nothing would for a while.

Then he felt dirty, as he debated the reality of the situation. If Claire had her memories back, would she have picked him? Based on their past ten years of marriage, he had to assume she would not. And he knew that very well. And returning her to the future, only to have her memories come later... he might have ensured he'd given her the illusion of a choice, but he'd suspected he was fairly safe all along.

Was he in the wrong? For not insisting she stay with him until she knew she wanted to leave him? He shook his head then, and rolled over in the bed. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted to be with someone who really wanted to be with him, but he also wanted that person to be Claire. And if she came back with him, she might be angry later but he'd given her the option.

Brianna made the situation more difficult. He wouldn't leave her. Whether he'd biologically created her or not, he was her father. He wouldn't leave her in the 18th century for any reason. If Claire wanted to be with Jamie, she could be, but Frank would take Brie back to the future.

* * *

He'd gotten no more than an hours sleep last night which apparently helped to solidify his role as Johnathon Randall. Instead of gawking curiously at the sights around him, he stumbled around the fort, mindlessly giving orders when it was requested.

He was curious of how the fort was run and maintained, both as a historian and as an inexperienced impersonator of their commander. Sometime around lunch, he took lunch in his office, apparently not unexpected for the late Black Jack Randall, and debated how he would escape to find his family. He examined the papers around the desk, looking for clues as to his position and role.

He didn't have to wait long to find a solution to his issue of finding his family. A guard knocked on the door and when welcomed in he announced, "Sir, your wife has come to see you."

"My wife?" Frank asked, at first in skeptical disbelief which quickly turned to astonishment.

Claire walked into the room then, looking almost fragile and visibly uncomfortable as she looked uneasily around the office.

"Claire." He rose from his seat and quickly approached her, only pausing when he noticed her immediately shy away, almost as if cowering from his touch. "Darling?"

"Frank," She breathed, glancing nervously around the room. "I've been here."

Panic once more seized his body but he would not fall prey to the fear. He took her lightly by the shoulders and led her the seat behind her desk.

"Here." He offered her a drink from his flask but she pushed it away.

"I'm fine." She stated. "Only a little surprised."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you." He smiled at her words. "I thought it would be difficult, then I remembered that wives are allowed to visit their husbands."

"I am sure it is a tad frowned upon." He smirked. "But I do not mind in the slightest. I was just trying to find a reason to come find you."

"Are you not allowed to leave?"

"I fear leaving so soon after my reinstatement will lead to greater suspicion."

"Why did they bring you here?"

"I gather the position is not a popular one." He explained casually. "So they brought me here as a sort of... punishment for playing dead for ten years."

"This is ridiculous." She snapped. "Why don't you just leave for the day and not come back? Or quit? Do you really want to resume your ancestors post? It is not as if he someone with admiral qualities."

"They could very well kill me for treason and for abandoning my post during the war." He shook his head then. "Besides, we will be home soon."

"Frank we need to talk about that."

"Talk about what?" He wondered, leaning down to kiss her. She pulled her face away and the fear returned deep in his gut. "What is it?"

"I remember Frank."

"You..."

"I remember almost everything."

* * *

 **Hey! Thank you for reading! I know this chapter is short. I wanted to get it out. I hope you are ready for the finale soon! I am thinking one, maybe two, more chapters!**


	17. Brianna

**Chapter 17**

 _ **Brianna**_

 _ **.**_

I was not comfortable in Randalls old office. It was decorated somewhat different but not enough to banish the horrifically unwelcome thoughts.

"She's with Jamie." I answered when he asked where Brianna was. He took a seat in the chair in front of the chair and watched me with expressionless, calculating eyes.

"What does this mean, then?" He wondered.

"I don't know yet." I answered because I truly didn't. I wanted to be with Jamie. I only ever wanted to be with him, and now that I had experienced life without him... now knowing that he still lives... I don't think I could survive that.

The only thing causing me hesitation was Brianna. This was not a time as ideal as the future to be a young girl, but this _was_ her time. This was where she was conceived and this was where she was meant to be born. I didn't mind her staying here, though. Jamie would be a good father, and this is where I'd wanted to raise her anyways. But how could I explain it to her? How could I expect her to change her knowledge and understanding of reality? And how could I explain Jamie? Her father...

I couldn't dismiss Frank. That wouldn't be fair for either of them. But I _needed_ Jamie. I couldn't be without him. And Brianna was _our_ daughter.

"You don't know yet." Frank repeated, his voice suggesting he was extremely unhappy with my words.

"No, I don't know yet." I answered, almost shortly.

"Well..." He thought with artificial calmness. "I sure do hope Brianna is not to lose her mother."

"What is it you just said to me?" I demanded, instantly angered by the comment. I glared at him and felt my body started to tremble.

"It is just that... if you decide to stay here with him, Brianna will lose her mother. It will be very difficult for her, not that you were around much anyways."

"How fucking dare you?" My teeth were clenched as I spoke.

"How dare I?" Frank asked in disbelief. "You are the one unsure whether or not she wants to return to her own time with her family."

"This is Brianna's time." I reminded him harshly. "This is where she was meant to be born. This is the time I planned to raise her in. And I am her mother, her _real_ mother so she will go where I go."

"I am her real father."

"You are not, though!" I yelled. "You have helped me raise her, and I thank you for that. I do not want to take her from you, nor you from her. But Jamie _wanted_ to raise her, he couldn't! So do not expect me to pity you as if you did me a favour!" I took a deep breath then, as we glared at one another. "I didn't ask you to stay with me! You didn't want to leave me! There was no question who I wanted to be with."

"She is my daughter! That is what I know, and that is what she knows!" He snapped. "I will not let you take her from me!"

"I would never take her from you...! You could come spend time with her, and visit."

"Two hundred years in the past... are you mad, woman?"

I didn't have an answer for him that he would like, so instead I asked, "You don't even want to be married to me! Why can't we just separate?"

"Because I have friends who have divorced, and they are never able to see their children."

"You are always welcome to see Brie."

"If I stay in the past."

I hesitated but finally breathed, "Yes."

"And you have made up your mind on this?" I didn't like the tone he spoke with. It have me anxiety that he had a plan to take my daughter from me. I calmed myself with the knowledge that she was safe with Jamie who would never let her leave his sight in the few hours he feared he might have left with her. Frank was also walking on egg-shells in his new role as Jack Randall. Without the Duke of Sandringham to protect him, he could easily be arrested and punished for Randall's past crimes.

"I cannot lose him again." I told him. "I love him."

"You loved me once." He reminded sourly.

"I did." I agreed.

"Why wasn't I enough?"

My heart cracked then and I fell to my knees in front of him, placing my hands on his knees.

"You were more than enough, Frank." I vowed. "But with him it is different."

"You can't live without him, but you can live without me." He muttered. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was right.

I had expected to likely be unable to discuss this with with Frank. I expected I would cower into my fears of having Brianna _choose_ to leave with Frank than to stay with me and Jamie. I thought I would be unable to tell Frank the truth of what I wanted. But on my way to Fort William, I remembered more of who I was and who I had become, and begun to remember how much leaving Jamie would affect me. No, I could not do it again. I would not survive it.

"Frank, I do not want to hurt you." I told him. I wanted to suggest that it would all work out happily. That the four of us could live in a home together and raise Brianna was a family. But I knew Jamie would never allow it, Frank would never accept it, and to be honest, I didn't want that either.

"I have nothing in this time, Claire." He told me. "My career and my life are in the future. But I will also not leave my daughter."

I waited for him to speak again because I could think of nothing to say to him.

Finally, he continued. "I suppose we should ask Brianna what she wants."

"No." I did not mean to answer as quickly as I did, but my response was automatic. "No, because it does not matter. _Jamie_ is her father, and he deserves a chance to raise her. I am her mother. You cannot take her from us, I do not care what she thinks of the matter. I am sure it will not be ideal for her, but she stays where I am."

"You cannot keep my daughter from me, I'll-"

"You'll what?" I demanded. I did not want to threaten him, or challenge his role in her life. He'd raised her, and I acknowledged that. But she was still, and always would be, _mine_. "We are not married in this time, Frank. Pretend we are all we want, but the law says it is Jamie and I. And Brianna is the daughter of Jamie and I. One look at her and no one can deny that. So what will you do, Frank? I know this situation is unpleasant, but if you try to make it more difficult, you will lose."

* * *

Jamie and Brie were in the field when I returned to town. They both carried blades as I think Jamie was teaching her how to fight with a sword. He appeared to be taking the job very seriously, while she appeared to be having the time of her life.

"Correct me if I am wrong," I called as I approached. "But isn't it now illegal for non-British officers to carry weapons in Scotland?"

"Aye, but that might be a dead rule." Jamie mused, looking at me first as if my appearance had brightened his day, before turning more somber. "Good thing Frank is Captain of dragoons, is it no?"

He knocked Brianna back after she failed to get passed his sword, then said, "You are using too much space, and taking too much time with each swing. It makes ye predictable, lass."

"Still, Frank will not be captain forever." I warned. I almost wanted to cry at the name. It reminded me continuously how close and in love we had been. For the past hour, though, we'd fought viciously, calling one another terrible names and attacking one anothers most delicate insecurities. I was still shaken when I had arrived back in town, and felt my heart struggling to find forgiveness for us both. I did not want to hurt him, nor did I think he wanted to hurt me. But somehow it kept happening.

Jamie stopped then, said something to Brianna in Gaelic which she clearly understood to mean she should take a break.

"You've been teaching her Gaelic." I realised.

"Aye, a lass should know her language." He answered coolly. "And if there are so few things I am to teach her, then let that be one of them."

"Still, you should be careful fighting in public. The British won't be forgiving."

He walked passed me then, "Then they can hang me when yer gone." He sounded almost bitter when he spoke, but continued towards the horse driven cart. I'd taken the horse driving it to visit Frank after leaving Jamie and Brianna to bond.

"Jamie."

"Mama!" Brianna called, pulling my attention away from him. "Mama, Mackenzie said I could call him da, can I?"

I glanced back at Jamie who was drinking from his canteen. He watched me carefully with furrowed eyebrows as he put it away.

"Of course you can, my love." I answered, turning back to her.

"Da was teaching me to fight."

"A young lass should know how to defend herself." He explained coming to stand next to me.

"You were doing very well." I laughed, lowering to a crouch in front of her so we were eye to eyes. "Brianna..." I started. "Do you like it here?"

"Scotland? Yes."

"Would you want to stay here longer?" I wondered. No matter what Frank might have thought of me, or what names he could of called me, or how neglectful he thought I could be when I focused on work, I cared about how my daughter felt. And I wouldn't force her to do anything she would resent me for later.

"Can we?" Her eyes lit up and she looked up at Jamie excitedly. He offered her a firm smile before returning his curious gaze to me.

I smiled, mostly out of relief. "Of course we can. Brie, Frank... daddy is going to be away for work for a little while. We can't visit him at this new job but he can visit us."

"What are we going to do while he's there?" She asked carefully as if hearing the answer made her nervous.

"We are going to stay with da." I said glancing up at Jamie who watched us, his eyes somewhere far away. When my words registered, his eyes widened a little and his face came back to life.

"Really?" I heard and breathing relaxed when she sounded almost excited about this. She turned to him then smiling, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasna aware of this." He answered coolly as he could while he struggled to maintain a controlled facial expression. "But yer welcomed to stay as long as ye would like."

I stood straight and looked him nervously in the eyes. I could not read the expression on his face. He held a perfectly maintained calm expression, but his eyes told me he wasn't bothered by my assumption.

"Are you sure?" I asked wanting to say more but limited by the small girl standing between is. I think he felt the same but he simply nodded.

"When are we going home then?" Brianna wondered.

"Oh." I blinked down at her in surprise, tearing my eyes away from Jamie's suddenly. "Um..."

"Ye must wait until yer father is ready, I suppose." Jamie answered almost stiffly as if the reminder of Frank was a knife in his back that he didn't want to remove in Brianna's presence.

"Where will we live?" I felt only excitement at the possibility of returning to Lallybroch but knew Brianna would be a complication to explain. It was simple enough to tell Jenny and Ian, as well as their children who must have grown, that Brianna was our daughter. It was clear enough when you looked at her that she belonged to Jamie. But Jenny and Ian already knew of my husband Frank, and they thought he was dead.

How could we keep Brianna from telling them otherwise? I couldn't make a liar out of my daughter. And I didn't want to reject Franks role in her life either. Nor would they willingly accept that I'd chosen to raise Jamie's daughter with Jack Randall.

I think Jamie agreed because he said, "There is land with cottages on the edge of Lallybroch my sister never visits. We can stay there a while we decide more if ye'd like. Or we could go to Glasgow or Edinburgh and I could start up a shop, though that may take some time and I dinna ken how long ye wish to remain."

"What sort of shop?" I wanted to get rid of the fear in his eyes when he spoke to me, as if every word he said had to be said the utter most care or he might scare me away.

"I dinna know."

"I do not mind returning with you to Lallybroch." I informed him. "I have missed Jenny and Ian both greatly, as well as wee Jamie and Maggie... but I don't know how we will..." I looked down at Bree who smiled widely up at me.

"Aye." He nodded. "But we will find a way."

* * *

It was after that we returned to Lallybroch. We did not go to the main house first, but around to one of the furthest corners. We didn't plan on hiding our arrival from Jenny or Ian, but Brianna was excited and we feared having her say something she shouldn't.

"Would it truly be so bad to tell them?" I asked as our carriage lifted over a hill and I could suddenly see a cottage in the distance. Brianna sat in the back with our limited supplies and played with a toy horse while I sat next to Jamie at the front.

"Aye, we could tell them the truth." He agreed. "But they're just as likely to believe yer a witch."

"Surely the truth would be less complicated than a lie."

"Normally, I would agree. But this is a much different situation."

I took his hand from his lap and held it. I surprised him in doing so but he did not pull away or shale me off as I'd feared.

"I'm sorry." I told him honestly. "So very sorry."

He glanced back for a moment at Brianna before glancing back at me. "What are you thinking, Claire?"

"What?" I asked, looking down in surprise as he pulled his hand away from mine leaving only an empty feeling in the pit of my already upset stomach.

"Did you decide to stay with me longer because you felt I had a moral obligation, or because you wanted to?"

I blinked at him in a moment with my heart stuck in my chest. It would not surprise me after the rollercoaster I'd put him on if he rejected me. But I still didn't want him to.

"I've never wanted to be with someone more than you." I told him.

He watched me for a minute then a relaxed, relieved smile crossed his face. "Are ye certain, Claire?"

"I am." I guaranteed. "I want to be with you forever if I can. I only don't know how to explain it to her." I glanced back at Brie.

"Aye, or how we explain Jack Randall's desire to visit her." He added.

"How could the truth me any less complicated?!"

"I dinna believe you until we went to the rocks and ye showed me. And Jenny has _much_ less world experience than I have. I willna risk you or her going back through those stones to prove a point. So unless you wish to send Frank back into the future in front of Ian and Jenny, I suppose the lie will have to hold."

"What is our story then?" I demanded.

"Ye thought I was dead and ye went to the new world to care for our child." He answered. "That is the story as Brianna knows to tell it."

"And Frank?"

"Ugh," He groaned and rolled his eyes but said, "Jack Randall buggered me enough it will be no surprise if after his resurrection he buggers me and my family some more."

I thought about it for a moment but the story seemed sturdy enough. And so long as Brianna could keep calm when she saw Frank again, or at least not call him _daddy_ publicly, the story would hold.

My struggle, I knew, was over how to tell Brianna the truth, or if I even should. We'd already informed her that Jamie and I were going to be married, which her brain translated to a game of pretend. And we'd told her about how Jamies family would react to seeing her. I didn't know how or if I was going to tell her the truth. That I'd gone back in time and married Jamie and we'd had her. I didn't want her to think I was rejecting Frank as a part of her life. I didn't want her to resent Jamie thinking he was the reason Frank and I would separate, as I definitely wanted to.

Jamie seemed to have a simpler idea on how to handle the situation. We tell her the truth and she would accept it because that's what children do, for better or for worse. He didn't mind never seeing Frank again. In fact, he'd made it very clear that he thought Frank had had enough time with _his_ family and should feel grateful for the opportunity.

As we grew closer to the cottage we could more clearly see that it hadn't been used in years. There were boards on the windows, and the gardens had not been tended. It looked dusty and battered.

"Is this where we are staying?" Brianna yelped jumping up suddenly from the back of the cart. I glanced back at her smiling and nodded. "Does daddy know we're here? When is he going to visit?"

"I'm not sure when but we are going to send him a letter telling him where we are." I informed her. "Remember to call him Captain Randall, darling."

"Right! Why do we have to pretend though?" She wondered. "Why are you guys pretending to be married?"

"Because we are legally married." Jamie answered and I gave him a sharp look but he appeared to be amused.

"You are?" Brianna asked curiously though she looked skeptical. "How? You can't be married to two people."

"The lass is no too young to know." Jamie said to me quietly.

"Know what?" She demanded.

"We will discuss it later." I decided not wanting to think further about our situation. "Let's grab our things and take them inside."

"Tell me!" She shouted desperately.

"Listen to your mother, lass." Jamie ordered and she obeyed instantly as he stopped the carriage and she jumped out. Then he looked at me and said, "Are ye sure you willna change your mind about me?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then why can't you tell her?" He demanded. "We will have to tell her eventually, and you are doing none of us a favour keeping it a secret!"

I looked at the pain in his eyes and took a long deep breath before saying, "You're right. We will wait until after we've settled and tell her at dinner."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Hope you are ready! The next chapter is the last chapter!**


	18. My Beloved

**Chapter 18**

 _ **My Beloved**_

 _ **.**_

Settling into the small home was not as easy as we'd imagined. It had been long abandoned with broken windows, uneven door frames, rotting cabinetry, and a wicked smell of vile excretions. Feathers, furs, flurries of dust, and leaves littered the living spaces, granted access from the unhinged from entrance. The space was small but there were three back rooms within the ill constructed layout. The main space consisted of a kitchen-like area and an open space I imagined was meant to be a family room.

The three back rooms were not large but they were also not as dirty as the entrance. Though there were leaves and dust piles scattered across them, they seemed easy enough to organize.

It took us days to clean out the rooms to completion, and we worked like a well-functioning crew rather than a happy family. We were robots working towards a single goal. I was forced to ask myself, as the days progressed and we worked in near silence, why this project was taking so long, and why the air seemed so tense. The conclusion I unpleasantly drew was myself. My fear of settling in made me work slower, and Jamie fed off this. Brianna, like any eight year old might, relied primarily on our instruction to remain focuses, and only worked as fast as we requested.

We did not speak during breakfast, nor dinner. And it was not until a week after our arrival that we'd made the cottage somewhat livable. The fear approached me then, as I looked upon the small home we'd fixed. My eyes met Jamies before I was able to take a step. He was challenging me within a single glance to step forward and not be a coward.

I could not find my appetite as we sat around the table together. The meal was tasteless and the sounds were still. The room was lit by only three candles, but it was enough.

"Brie?" I had not heard the word. I hadn't felt myself say it.

"Yes, mama." She asked, not looking away from her food. In our time she could eat all day, and getting her to eat her food at meal times could be troublesome. She had her father's appetite, but also his stubbornness. In the 1700's, with food so much less accessible, she ate hungrily and happily every bite from her plate. I didn't like knowing this was because she hadn't eaten since lunch, but she was being fed for every meal.

I hesitated to continue, so instead I said her name again. My hands beginning to tremble. I grabbed onto the table desperately as if it would stabilize me. I glanced for a moment at Jamie who looked at me with the same confused glance his daughter wore. If I'd known no better, I would have thought he didn't know what I was trying to say.

There was no judgement in his eyes, nor any resentment or disappointment. In fact, I had the feeling that he wouldn't say another word about it if I failed to say anything more. But I needed to. I couldn't maintain the lies. I wanted us to be a family. I needed her to know her place in that family- -that we were in love and she had been the result of that love, torn away all too soon.

I almost wished that he would tell her for me, but I knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't take from me the option to tell our daughter, or not tell her if that is what happened.

"I..I...I..." I was shaking more so she asked if I was alright. "I am... I... I was in the war, you know?"

"Yes, you and daddy. You were a nurse."

"Well after the w-war, we went to Scotland."

Brianna watched me in a memorized silence as I explained the story. Everything as clearly as I could remember it. I was not sure if I was trying to convince her or myself that these memories were not false. Jamie listened intently also, as if hearing this story for the first time.

I became more animated than I thought I would have, probably more for myself than for my tiny audience of two. It was the first time I had really played inside my memories since they'd returned, and both Jamie and Brianna waited quietly while I struggled to fill the holes i had not realized were missing. I used cues from Jamie to indicate whether I was on the right track, but he couldn't help me with memories he did not share. I could only be sure that I loved him more than anything, and when in doubt I returned to that.

When it was over we all sat in silence. I waited anxiously for Briannas response. It felt like decades while she tried to comprehend her thoughts. Then, finally after what felt like a million years.

"You're a liar! Why are you lying!?" She declared loudly, slamming her fists hard against the table. "Why would you say such things, you liar?"

" _Brianna_." Jamie gasped harshly looking like he was in shock.

"No, you lie too!" She snapped at him standing up, throwing her plate away from her before marching to her room. The last thing we heard from her that night echoed through the wooden and stone walls, " _I hate you_!"

It was silent for a moment as we registered what had happened. Jamie was the first to move. He stifled a laugh before picking up his plate and Brianna's.

"What do you find so amusing about this?" I demanded hotly.

"Nothing is amusing about this." He answered returning to sit beside me in the seat Brianna had just left vacant. "I did not expect her to react kindly. I didn't know what she'd say but still I dared to hope. Having those hopes... it seems foolish now."

"I don't know what I'm going to do." I breathed. His arm wrapped around me then and I wish I could say it was comforting but I felt a pang of almost resentment towards him. I knew we needed to tell her but... I was so angry about the situation and he was one of the best people to blame.

That night was tense and neither of us slept much. I felt almost wrong sleeping in the same bed as him because it felt like a betrayal to Bree.

The next few days were a struggle. Jamie and I could not enjoy one-another's company because we didn't want to upset our daughter, who refused to associate with unless unless forced to.

I could only get her to speak a few words to me the few times Jamie left to get supplies from the town. Still, her contributions to the conversion were limited.

* * *

It was another week before we received any guests. For whatever reason I was surprised to see Ian ride up to the cottage. I think he was more surprised to see me by the door to greet him.

"A few of our tenants said they saw people living in one of the cottages." Ian explained, struggling to take his eyes off me, after Jamie asked about the unexpected visit. "I came to investigate."

"We did not want to overwhelm you all before you were ready." Jamie admitted. "We were going to come when we had ourselves put back together.

"And who is this?" Ian asked eyeing Brianna carefully.

"Brianna." Jamie answered, his voice ringing with pride even though she was sulking. "Our daughter."

"Daughter?" Ian gasped.

"I am not your daughter!" Brianna stood and shouted before marching outside yelling "And you are not my dad!"

"Aye, she is yours." Ian nodded. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"I lost my memory." I explained in the defense of Brianna's behavior. Plus, this was not entirely a lie. "After Culloden, I forgot who I was and I raised Brianna not knowing that Jamie was her father."

"Is that possible?" Ian asked in shocked awe.

"Aye, we've seen things in war not unsimilar." Jamie shrugged.

"Not enough to make a person forget their husband." Ian argued. "How do you remember us now?"

"I am not sure." I answered because I did not want to admit seeing that horrid girl had shocked me out of my sickness. Assuming that's what it was that brought me back. "But I did remember eventually. And Brianna has not been taking it too well."

"Children adapt." Ian assured us. "Jenny will be so happy to know you are home, Jamie. And you."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"Are ye..." Ian continued then looking suddenly worried. "Are there anymore troubles with the law?"

"No." Jamie assured him.

Jenny came to visit the next day and after that they brought their children. Brianna got along well enough with her cousins, though sometimes she would mention things such as _TV_ and _automobiles_ as her small act of rebellion. We had to explain to her what the witch hunts were to prevent her from trying to force us home by exposing us.

As weeks turned into months, we all became more comfortable with each other. Jamie had easily won back Brianna's love, though she refused to show it when I was around. And after a few months we returned to the main house to live with Jenny and Ian and their children. We hadn't heard from Frank in any of this time. I wouldn't voice a concern to Jamie but I was getting worried. He should have sent a letter or word to let us know he was okay. Brianna would start to worry if he didn't return soon.

The months of his absence caused her to revert to her old "I hate you and Jamie" ways. She blamed us for keeping him away.

It was a few weeks more until Jamie and I were pulled from each others arms under the sheets to address the barking dogs and yells from outside the house.

We were back to living in the main house. Brianna was on speaking terms with me by that point, at least. And she was not too cruel to Jamie. As the months passed she seemed to get over her anger but often waiting until Jamie was in the room to request to see Frank. Jamie was not too pleased by this; I think it hurt him more than he would ever admit, but he never said an ill word to or about Brianna over it.

Sometimes Bree forgot what she was angry about. When she did, she would dote over Jamie as if he were her hero again. It was usually when she noticed me that she remembered why she'd been angry with him. It gave me hope all the same. Maybe she really would survive such a drastic life change.

Jamie also maintained a steady distance from me whenever she was in the vicinity. Despite the busy household and presence of the two loves of my life, I felt absolutely alone. Neither would come near me, especially not if the other was around. It didn't matter to me how intriguing I was to my nieces or nephews, I had nothing if I didn't have Jamie and Bree.

Jamie took my hand silently, kissed it, and began pulling me downstairs. There was a commotion in the main room with loud talking, gasps, and the faint sound of arguing.

When we pushed our way through and out the main door. Once outside it was clear what the problem was. Frank, or Captain Jack Randall, was dismounting his horse on the front steps of our property. Jenny looked as pale as a ghost while Ian appeared almost green. He started glancing between Jamie and Frank but Jamie looked almost disinterested in Franks sudden arrival.

"Hello, clan Fraser." Frank greeted sounding so much like his ancestor I almost felt queasy. "Or should I not say clan?"

"Merciful Lord," Jenny cried, "How are you here, demon?! Be gone with you! Wee Jamie, go fetch the priest."

"I can assure you I am no apparition." Frank said. "And my death has been greatly exaggerated."

"Why come back here, Randall?" Ian demanded. "You ken yer no welcomed here."

"I have come to speak with Jamie." he announced turning to Jamie, "And his dear family."

"We do not want your kind on our land!" Jenny spat. "The reek of the devil!"

Jenny could not comprehend the situation. She was shocked by his survival, and skeptical all the same, now looking to me as if I were somehow not meant to be here either. She became livid, also, when Jamie and I allowed him a few private moments with Brianna which led to Brianna storming off angrily and almost crying into the house.

Frank appeared distraught over this, as any father would, but neither Jenny no Ian had the knowledge required to understand that. Jenny attacked Frank assuming he'd done something to hurt Brianna so Jamie dragged her into the kitchen where her screams continued to echo throughout the house. Meanwhile I went to Brianna to see what was wrong.

"You're all liars." She told me when I asked in her room what was wrong. She'd begun packing her things- her toys, her clothing, her books- into a trunk. "I am going home and I never want to see you again."

"What did daddy say?" I asked her calmly.

"Don't you mean _Frank_?" She snapped.

"Bree!"

"I told him what you and Jamie said!" She cried. "And he... he... he said it was true. You have all been lying to me! None of this makes sense! I want to go home! _This_ isn't even a real toy!" She threw whatever she'd been holding at a wall across the room.

"I am sorry, Bree." I told her truthfully, rubbing her back softly before pulling her to me in a hug. "I know this is confusing. And I am so sorry."

"You don't even care about daddy!"

"I do care about him." I promised. "But it is not the same with him."

"I won't just replace him like you did!" She screamed into my chest.

"I never expected you to."

I returned downstairs to find that Ian had sent the children, followed by Brianna, to a neighbors house and requested the cooks go tend to the land for a bit while Jamie calmed Jenny in the kitchen. Frank, Ian, and I were left in the sitting room in complete silence expect for the shouts echoing down the halls. We never spoke a word as the shouts slowly turned to murmurs until finally we heard nothing.

Then we were left in a fragile silence waiting for the siblings to return. I wanted to break the silence. I think we all did, but refused to risk it. Ian continued to give Frank wiry glances from the corner of his eye. He did not doubt Captain Jack Randall's miraculous survival but that didn't mean he was happy about it.

Finally Jamie and Jenny returned, both looking exhausted.

"I would like to apologize, Captain Randall, I should no have said the words I did to you." Jenny began. It was clear these were not words spoken too willingly but Frank accepted them regardless.

"I do not have much memory of my life before Culloden," He explained as if he had a million times. I realized in that moment he probably had. Everyone who say him would have wanted to know his story, and many would be unhappy that he'd survived. "But I am sorry for whatever acts I have committed to offend you. I hope to make right by you."

She huffed at this but Jamie was the next to speak.

"We will welcome Randall like a guest." Jamie determined. "But like any guest, he will leave before his welcome is naught."

This arrangement please both Brianna and Frank, and if I was being sincerely honest, me too. Ideally, I didn't want to drag Frank into this life with me. I wanted him to start a new one and be happy. But I was pleased to see Brianna so much happier. And due to Franks approval, she started feeling more comfortable being accepting of myself and Jamie.

Jamie didn't share the same optimism as we did about the situation. Although he never spoke ill about Frank to or around Brianna, it angered him every time Frank surprised us with his presence. The anger grew deeper as the weeks passed. Jamie felt he was getting closer to Brianna but suddenly Frank arrived and pulled them apart again.

"She doesn't call me da!" Jamie snapped at me one night while angrily ranting over his displeasure of Franks influence over our lives.

"She will eventually." I promised, though it was something I couldn't guarantee. "She used to call you padre, remember?"

He made a loud sound at the back of his throat. "She doesn't even know what that means, she thinks it means _friend_."

I watched him as he angrily passed around the bedroom, grumbling bitterly to himself.

"He needs to go back to his own time." Jamie decided.

"That is my time too," I reminded him. "And Brianna's."

"You and Brianna belong here." He said with a certainty that filled me with a comfortable warmth. "But I canna relax with him showing up to see her every few days. No. And it upsets Jenny and Ian also."

"We can discuss a schedule with him if you would like." I offered.

"He can go back where he belongs."

"And if he takes Bree?" I inquired. "I cannot leave my daughter."

"He will not take Bree." Jamie stated.

"She may want to go with him."

"We are her parents, we decide what is best for her." He stated. "It doesna matter what she wants."

"I do not want her to hate me, Jamie." The words were almost a whimper.

"Sassanach." He started but stopped, froze for a moment, shook his head and turned back to me. I don't know what I was expecting, but the next thing I knew he was pulling out clothing off and taking me without a second thought.

* * *

"What's the matter?" I asked Jamie as we dressed one morning. It had been months since we'd told Brianna. She wasn't as cold as she had been originally, and she'd started accepting Jamie more as an unwelcome presence in her life. Jamie had been hopeful about this but today he seemed especially low.

"Nothing is the matter." He mumbled buttoning his shirt.

"Talk to me, please Jamie." I begged taking his hands and turning him softly towards me as I sat on the edge of the bed.

"It is nothing ye need to fret over." He promised but didn't sound convinced. His eyes never met mine and his face... I stood up and hugged him as close as I could manage. He hugged me too, weakly at first but then with a growing strength as if he was desperately trying to keep me with him. "I love you, Claire."

"What is this about?" I almost demanded but he pulled away at the sounds of dogs barking outside. I couldn't overcome the tense air that stood between us so suddenly. "Jamie?"

He didn't answer. Instead he marched out the door and downstairs. When I followed, I saw Frank standing waiting in the sitting room.

Jenny and Ian sat around him but did not speak. They watched him as if he were a bear that had just entered the home.

"I am able to forgive ye, Randall, for all you did." Jamie explained when him and Frank were face to face. "But I canna live knowing you could come for my family at any moment."

"I do not wish to harm your family." Frank rebutted.

"I challenge ye, _Captain_ Randall, to the death."

"Jamie!" Ian, Jenny, and myself all gasped. I looked around but saw no children we needed to worry about in that moment. Where were they? And how had Jamie known Frank was waiting down here?

"I refuse your challenge." Frank said calmly.

Jamie gave him a dark glare for a moment, then said "Can I have a moment alone with Captain Randall, please?"

Jenny was about to voice a complaint but Ian was by her side before she could, dragging her out. Jamie gave me a look as if to signal I was meant to leave also, but I was too nervous to go.

"I need to speak with him alone." Jamie explained offering me a hand to help me up from the couch. I didn't want to move. I didn't know what would happen if I left, and Jamies actions this morning, his calm, expectant reaction to Franks arrival, made it difficult for me to move. I accepted his hand, noticing Frank make a sour face, not for the first time since his arrival.

"Did you ask him to come?" I inquired slowly as I stood next to him.

"I canna live with his shadow behind me always." He replied in a low voice.

"What does that mean?"

"Go with Jenny and Ian, Claire." He ordered, lightly pushing me towards their direction.

"No." I snapped stepping back to him.

"This is between him and me."

"What are you doing?" I demanded. "Tell me, Jamie."

"I see she does not listen to you any better than she does to me." Frank mused.

Jamie turned slightly to give him a dark look before lowering his face to mine to kiss me lightly. He kissed me softly a few times before saying, "I love ye more than anything else. I willna lose you without a fight."

"You do not need to fight!" I argued. "You will not lose me. I am with you, only and always."

"Brianna isna happy. Not as happy as she should be. And that makes you unhappy."

"I am not unhappy, Jamie." I told him quickly.

"Aye, but if Brianna chooses to go with him, you will follow and I canna allow that."

There was a tone to his voice I remembered all too well from the last day I'd seen him before returning to my time. I grabbed him by the wrist, unsure how hard I would need to hold him.

"I willna lose, Claire." He vowed.

"Nor will I." Frank said suddenly, pulling our attention back to him. "We do not need to fight. I know that laws of these times and I understand where I lie. My placement here is fragile and if I challenge that I will lose everything. I do not wish to lose anything. I told Brianna the truth. That is what upset her. I will not interfere with your lives. I only ask that I am able to visit my daughter."

"No." Jamie hissed.

"Jamie." I tried but he shrugged me off.

"I dinna want yer face or yer name or your _hands_ near my family." Jamie continued.

"I am not Johnathon Randall." Frank reminded coolly.

"It doesna matter." Jamie determined. "Pistol or sword. You may choose, I will meet you in the courtyard."

I grabbed him by the arm to pull him back into the room. He made a motion as if to push me away but thought better of it.

"Jamie, you don't need to kill each other!" I tried.

"I do not wish to fight." Frank agreed putting his hands up somewhat.

"Then I will kill you, I dinna mind killing a coward but arm yerself. I willna kill an unarmed coward."

"Jamie!" I begged. He gave me a sharp glare of anger and betrayal so I added, "Brianna will not forgive you."

"I forgave you for leaving and forgetting me." The words put an anchoring pain in the pit of my stomach and for a moment I thought I might fall back. The anger left his eyes then, he shook his head twice and pulled me into a hug. "I am sorry, Sassanach."

We stood in a moment of silent which felt like forever yet somehow not long enough before Frank cleared his throat loudly.

"I will promise to stay away." Frank said as we turned to him. "But I only ask two things."

"What?" I wondered before Jamie could say no.

"First, I need you... Jamie," It seemed difficult for him to say the name. He was struggling to even look at us. "I need you to verify my identity to my superiors, as well as to act as a reference in support of me maintaining my position as captain."

"What?" I asked.

"They fear I am out of practice." He admitted but struggled to say the rest. "That I am... unable to properly preform my old duties. They want to replace me. I can not stay in this era without the protection of that position."

"Then don't stay in this era." Jamie suggested.

"I will not leave Brianna." Frank snapped. "Besides, I have heard of the difficulty you've had with the law. It would help you to have a Captain protecting you."

"That captain is the same one causing my difficulty with the law." Jamie reminded.

"What is your second request?" I inquired.

"Visitation privileges with Brianna."

"Of course." I said in the same beat that Jamie said "No."

I glanced up at him ready to argue but he was one step ahead.

"I do appreciate your efforts to raise my daughter in my place, but your services are no longer needed. She is _our_ daughter, and it is my turn to raise her. Besides, having you around will only confuse the poor lass."

"He is as much her father as you are, Jamie." I tried. He gave me a look that made me want to be quiet but I knew Franks request was not unfair. "He should be allowed to see her."

I thought he would say no. To continue fighting, but instead he said, "Once a year."

"That is hardly fair!" Frank argued.

"Once a year or I can send you back to your own time." Jamie decided.

"Once a week."

Jamie spat out a laugh but shook his head.

"Once a month and holidays." Frank tried.

"That seems fair." I agreed.

"I cannot live like that." Jamie disagreed.

"Jamie." I moaned.

"Once a year." He continued.

"Once every six months and holidays."

"Once a year, no holidays." Jamie, Frank didn't understand, was too stubborn to be moved far from this agreement.

I decided to help Frank by saying, "Once a year and one holiday."

"No holiday, once a year." Jamie snapped at me.

"That is not enough!" Frank shouted so I turned to give him a look I hoped he would understand as _trust me._

"Once a year and one holiday with lots of advanced warning." I suggested to Jamie. After Jamie felt more secure in our lives, I am sure he'd let Frank come visit more.

Jamie gave me a wiry, unpleasant look as I wrapped my arms around his chest. I knew it was unfair to show Jamie affection with Frank in the room, but I was trying to help him.

"We are not going to leave you, Jamie." I told him quiet enough that Frank could probably not hear. "You will get time with Brianna, I promise. He will not interfere. But letting him see her will help them say goodbye. Plus... the faster this is resolved, the faster we can go upstairs."

This perked his attention. "What is upstairs?"

"What do you want to be upstairs?"

He hesitated for a moment, then groaned and sighed.

"Once a year and one holiday with a minimum month notice in advance." Jamie agreed.

Frank looked unhappy about this but I willed him to agree and finally he did.

"I want to say goodbye." Frank noted, looking genuinely unhappy about the situation.

"Come back tomorrow so we have time to prepare her." I requested.

Frank looked unhappily at the two of us, mumbled something under his breath but finally agreed. Jamie wrote him a letter of recommendation before we sent Frank on his way to start his life as Captain Johnathon Randall.

When it was only Jamie and I, he took me in his arms and kissed me desperately. I expected a moments breath to ask him what had him like this, but he never gave it. I didn't mind as he picked me up and carried me upstairs to our room. He dropped me onto my back on the bed, my skirts lifting slightly in response. I watched him readily as he pull my skirts up to my hips and spread my knees open before lowering to his knees in front of me.

"I willna lose you again, Sassanach." He warned me.

"You will not lose me." I vowed almost breathless as I waited for him to continue.

"I will kill anyone who tries to take you from me, you ken that?" He continued as he started kissing and nibbling my inner thigh.

"Yes." I gasped unthinkingly. Then I understood his meaning but was too lost in the moment to worry myself over it. We could discuss it after we were done. He didn't need to kill Frank to have me. I was his.

"You are mine, Sassanach." He continued as his mouth got closer to its destination. "And I am going to prove that."

"Jamie..." I sat up and pulled his face up to mine. I kissed him twice hard on the lips then stared deep into his eyes. "Jamie. I love you. Nothing could make me leave you. You and I, and Brianna, are going to live the happiest, longest life we can together. I promise you that. You do not need to prove anything to me. I am yours. Forever."

He watched me for a moment, his expression never changing. Then all at once his eyes shifted, his face relieved, his lips trembled, and he pulled me tight into his arms as tears started leaving his eyes.

He said something in Gaelic I didn't understand except for two words; _my beloved_.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading and thank you so much for waiting!**

 **Sorry for any errors in this chapter. My computer has been glitching and I don't know how to fix it.**

 **I hope you have enjoyed! :)**


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